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spacedhead · 5 months

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homestuck reread #18: the prologue (briefly) and meat p1

----brief context----

i sorta fell out of homestuck a little after i finished it and its november now but in light of james roach reviving homestuck beyond canon i figured i might as well get the ball rolling on this. i originally started this post in september but i couldnt find it in myself to continue reading due to not liking where the story was going and also finding myself having a new hyperfixation

----end of context----

september 7th:

okay im gonna make a rule that this shit show thats about to happen is NOT CANON to me and in my head they won and then they created earth c and they all lived happily without any of this inane bullshit thats coming up.

ok to start off look at these fucking tags dude oh my god this is gonna be so BAD man what the FUCK did they do to these characters

theres no art which actually sucks! but with these tags maybe its good they didnt show this in images. instead they just describe it in excruciating detail. anyway, here's the first character interaction in here.... they both feel different. even in this brief exchange, something feels... off. maybe its just cause theyre older but they feel distinctly more... angsty? maybe they just seem sad. i dunno. homestuck has its sad moments but for the most part the characters arent like. sad people

/rolls eyes yeah i like the reference but not in this context...

ok so rose just explained what john has to do which is go back into canon and defeat lord english but.... this is really fucked up man . she knows

meat or candy.... fuck which one should i read first.... do i wanna be sad sooner or sad later ... MAN the epilogues SUCK!!!!! FUCK

um okay this is really gross. what is the point of this?? like EW john what the fuck

ok this is fine i guess i mean i like davekat

i guess i also like how he still has this weird obsession with obama

november 10th:

im back . but i think updates to this series will be slower. i need to ease myself back into it yknow? also. if i hadnt made it clear. i DO NOT LIKE the epilogues. especially because homestuck proper is my FAVORITE MEDIA OF ALL TIME. seeing the characters i love ruined like this in what is the most official capacity it could be in is.... just. sad to me. anyway. dave predicts the future about obama . cool.

yeah i do too man. cant have shit around here

yeah like. what even is this plot. jane has become this evil xenophobic cartoon ass villain. and everyones just like. damn thats crazy that shes just like that now. i also dont even understand WHY she wants to be president of earth c. like literally everyone else is just chilling. god whatever

brother he is not coming back

also, this has nothing to do with the epilogues per se. but at the time of writing this tomorrow will be 11/11. i am a little bit expecting a homestuck beyond canon updateeee hehehe . also burning down the house which is a really really good homestuck fan comic is supposed to update too. so awesome. hopefully both of those things happen. or even like. just one. anyway back to this slop

casual dave xenophobia classic dave you know how it is he would definitely be like this for real i believe this

man this would be so cool if it was like. drawn. i wish i could see it instead of having to envision it in my minds eye. not that i dont appreciate my minds eye for what she has to offer me but. imagine this what this panel would look like

noooooo FUCK

stares at you furiously judgementally

okay both of them most likely dont know shit about shit and neither do i but dave at least grew up in a time where there were people around and things happening and dirk thinks he knows everything but he actually doesnt know anything so i wouldnt trust him on fiscal policy

fym nuh uh

average teen roxy adult john interaction

literally down ontologically at this point

blah blah blah ultimate self blah blah evil arc WHO CARES. im bored. can i say that. i seriously D. GAF about dirk rn. monkey d. gaf

bro i fucking HATE JANE. LIKE WHAT ARE YOU EVEN SAYING RIGHT NOW

i dont have much to say about this i just thought it was worth putting here

nah. cause what the hell are you talking about girl. hello. why is she so horny. ong bro u gotta relax

okay well. this is pretty funny . hes dave and im karkat and we are the denial brothers

youre so intolerable is crazy. like hes trying to help you because you are bleeding tf out girl

wow. jane jake kiss. this rules. SAID NO ONE EVER. jake is asexual. jane is a nazi. and I. AM TIRED. OF THIS!!!!!!! I DONT CARE ABOUT ANYTHING THAT IS HAPPENING .

wait fuck

marvel ass dialogue

NOOOO WHAT THE FUCK

okay this is the end of the first epilogues post. initial thoughts i dont like it why did i do this i dont wanna do it. but you know what they say in order to ascend first you must descend. little homestuck reference for you all. um idk when the next post will be im sorta busier than i used to be. and also? this sucks i dont like reading it

#joff hs reread #god damn you #they ruined my children #man i shoulda stayed watching one piece #its 1 am i have work tomorrow yet here i am #okay its 1 am again and AGAIN i have work tomorrow #am i being too negative

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du-hjarta-skulblaka · 9 days

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So yeah avoiding my phone didn't work and also meant I sat on the kitchen floor staring into space for about 3 hours before Alfie woke up but hey at least I didn't break anything

Them being around is helping a little but they're also struggling and it fuckin sucks bc I know we're both just. Rotating money stress in our minds

#like. i went out earlier to get bread #just bread bc we cant afford anything else #got just enough in the bank to cover the work thing but since management stjll hasnt gotten back to me on HOW to pay it its like #our electricity is already in debt lol it has a thing where you can go £10 into debt before it switches off #and it usually wont switch off over weekends #presumably bc all but 1 places nearby thst we can top it up at are shut on weekends but anyway #so we're like. okay. it MIGHT last today and if it does thst SHOULD mean itll last till monday.#but then itll be at least a tenner in debt #then we only have to last till thursday but its. do we keep this money thats for The Thing that is once again unclear on how urgent it is #or do we spend it on the Soon To Be Immdiately Urgent thing #and thats not even CONSIDERING food lmao we. i got 2 loaves of bread so we can at least survive on toast for a few days #we got 3 maybe 4 meals worth of stuff still in the kitchen #like...at this point i dont even care if i have to go a few days without eating at all to make it to thursday but its.#its so fucked up those are the terms im thinking in #and this isnt asking for more donations i really cannot take that today im at the fuckin bottom of my barrel #and already feel hopeless and useless and an active drain to everything around me #but its. like. how. why. why is it still like this. why is it looking extremely unlikely its ever gonna change.#whats the point if its all for a few scattered handful hours of actual peace and comfort never mind happiness #tldr yes i am once again suicidal but small s #like in the sense of i would feel immense relief if a truck came at me on my way to work tomorrow and would not step out of the way but #dont have it in me to actually consciously act upon

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kellystar321 · 8 months

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#periodical life updates #(<- NUMBER 3!!!) I FINISHED THE ANIMATION AND EVERYTHING FOR THAT PROJECT AND SENT IT OFF! super excited!!#it looks really cute! i tried my best and im mostly satisfied of where i landed <33 #it's my little sibling's birthday today!! it's also the first official meeting of lgbt club!! (the other event was a fun lgbt mixer)#my backpack smells bad. like mildew or mold maybe? urgh its awful and gives me a headache. i might need a new one. i dont know. urghhh.#my programming homework is due today!! yike!! but other than that my personal projects with deadlines are all done!#INIQUITY NOW THAT YOU HAVE TIME ARE YOU FINALLY GONNA WORK ON YOUR SELF SHIP BLOG?? YES!! HOPEFULLY!!#truthfully i /have/ been working on it on the side. it looks decent but the colors;;; i have always been pretty sht at color picking?#i can adjust with filters but without that im like. a little not good yet lmao. gotta do some studies sometime perhaps #BUT YAY EXCITED!! ive got some rambles and doodles and a tag system and f/o info which is extremely cumbersome (affectionate)!!#also i have new fandom ocs for the latest dimension 20 campaign and im so delighted heho <33 this campaign is literally so fun.#im watching it with my sibling when its done!! OOH ALSO I FIGURED OUT HOW TO PNGTUBE AND i will likely never use it BUT COOL!!#i dont like. talk. lmao. my art streams are 1) silent 2) rare 3) only shared with my siblings. pngtuber is a little useless. but CUTE!!#i got boba tea yesterday!! sandy bought it :3 <3 and we're having pho and cheesecake later and i might plan out a little excursion today?#like i might get a treatsie. OR i'll just sit on campus as usual and get a mango smoothie and draw for a while (or work on homework.)#(lets be honest its likely the former. i might get a little back into traditional? ooh or maybe i'll practice my asl?) HEY THOUGH.#ive been thinking about making a henrey stickmn (ask)blog to practice asl? like. no plot. just henry teaching ellie and charles asl #really funny considering my Real concept of an askblog for THSC. not ace or eca; but a secret third thing (⛎) ;)#then again since when have i EVER followed through on an askblog lmao?? damb im all over the place today. we're already hitting tag limit #okay!! 3 AM!! if im going early tomorrow i gotta eep! goodnight everyone i love you!! see you tomorrow if i have the energy and time!!

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shatteredfears-arch · 2 years

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since i have to replay it im trying to actually actively catch all pokes in an area so it’ll be easier to get a fucking shint charm later but im mostly gonna miss no longer having the dumbass rights of ‘i did not read the rules of the wild area and honestly thought if i just got a higher level than the wild pokemon i could catch thwm when thays never been a fucking tjing in these games and i ended up level 50 or so before the i think third gym’

#if you EVER question my brain its a golden retriever brain #thersz no thoughts just dos #out.#‘brina its 1 am you offered to come into work if needed tomorrow what are you—‘ not aleeping 8)#i gotta replay new pok snap and pok sword #bril dia AND get at least to where i left off in pok lets go #and mystery dungeon bc i stopped before the lart where i just cry #mystery dungeon has the best storyline okay you wanna have an emotional breakdown u plAY THAT #still gotta rebuy pok sword bc i gave it to an ex friend but yknow #when its on sale #im mever getting my shiny zacian back tho thats what rly hurts #i wasnt getting a shiny zamenzenta i knew bc i didnt have sword anymore #but the idea of blue and magenta in legendary form just kept me going #watch me spend three hours on the route w wild eevees catching only eevees again tho #bc i aways for the main team get special ability vee and she has to be a girl #my pink dragon slayer is a lIL LADY #i get emotionally attached to pixels on a screen if u wanna kno why ppl dont tend to hang around me

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hxzbinwrites · 3 months

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Idk if you do headcanons or one shots but either or will be fine:

Can I pretty please get a Vox x Emotionless! Reader?

Plot can be whatever you want but just to (hopefully) give some ideas… maybe Vox had no interest in Reader but then uh oh she smiled! Now Vox has a crush (°▽°)

But yeah lol thank you!! Have a good day!

Vox x Emotionless! Reader | Lovestruck Fool |

Warnings ⚠️: Cussing, Vox is a horrible boss

10:00am

(Y/n) walked into Vox’s office, holding an folder with today’s date and Vox’s name on it.

“Mr. Vox.” She said, her dead eyes watching her boss turn around in his excessively large chair.

“Hm, what is it (Y/n)?” He said, giving her a single glance before turning back to his monitors

“You have three meetings today sir. 1:00pm with Velvette in her portion of the tower. 2:30pm with Valentino in the main conference room, and someone scheduled a 4:00 with you, a Mr. Alastor? Called in today for an urgent meeting.”

Vox slammed his hands down on the desk, his face glitching in seething anger. “THAT PRICK!! CALL BACK AND TELL HIM I WILL NOT BE ATTENDING ANY SORT OF MEETING WITH HIM!!”

“He called from a public telephone sir, I can’t trace the caller ID.” (Y/n) said, clearly unfazed by his temper tantrum.

“DAMN IT!” He said, punching a smaller monitor on his right,”DONT YOU EVER LET HIM SCHEDULE ANOTHER MEETING WITH ME OR VOXTECH EVER AGAIN!!!”

Vox turned around, pointing one of his clawed fingers in your deadpanned face.

“Okay sir, is that all?”

“UGH!!” He said, clenching his fists to his side,”WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?? IM AN OVERLORD, I AM THE VOX, YOU SHOULD BE QUIVERING IN FEAR!! IM YELLING MY HEAD OFF AT YOU AND YOU CANT EVEN FORM AN EXPRESSION?? ARE YOU BRAINDEAD??”

(Y/n) slowly blinks, before looking down and rummaging through the folder she still held. “Ah, I almost forgot. Mr. Alastor requested his meeting also in the main conference room. If you need another reminder about your meetings today just call me-“

She was cut off once more by Vox, screaming and yelling, throwing things hazardously across the room. “JUST LEAVE.”

“Alright sir.” (Y/n) said, immediately turning away and walking towards the door.

————

4:45pm

(Y/n) was at her desk, taking calls and rearranging Vox’s schedule for tomorrow when her work phone buzzed.

“Hello? This is (Y/n) with Voxtech. How may I-“

“(Y/n). My office. Now.”

“Sir? This isn’t your work phone number? How can I be sure that this is-“

“MY OFFICE. NOW.”

(Y/n) could hear his voice glitching over the phone before she hung up, and briskly made her way to the door of his office.

She walked in to his Vox in his obnoxiously large chair, his hands covering his screen as he sighed in exhaustion.

“Ah, sir. You called me?”

“Yes (Y/n). I have installed safety features into your desk. Don’t except meetings from Alastor. If he comes in here, press the button under your monitor. He is NEVER allowed in this building.”

“Okay sir.” She said, making a note of that on her smartwatch,”Will that be all?”

“Can you get me a coffee…?”

“Right away sir.”

————

5:00pm

“Here’s your coffee sir.” (Y/n) said, setting it in his outreached hand.

“Thank you (Y/n)” He said, taking a single sip before doing a spit take. On one of the monitors around the city, it showed Velvette and Alastor chatting to one another.

“WHAT?!?” Vox yelled, being as “careful” as he usually is, his coffee flies into the air before landing on his shirt. He hissed in pain at the hit liquid, scrambling around before tripping on the various wires around his monitor setup (that was replaced after his previous temper tantrum) and landing on his ass.

Vox looked up in shock to see (Y/n) covering half of her mouth, revealing a smile. Tears brimmed her eyes as she tried to respectfully hold in her laughter.

Vox’s face felt red hot. Out of embarrassment and admiration. Why didn’t she smile more? Oh that smile, if she could remove her hand it would reveal its full glory. Let him soak it in. Her eyes filled with life and laughter. Has she always been this….beautiful? Yes, I think she has. She has indeed.

She let out a little snort before regaining her composure, before crouching down in front of him, taking the napkins provided with the coffee, and starting to wipe off as much of the liquid as possible. He felt her delicate hands rub across his chest. He hope she didn’t feel his erratic heartbeat.

He wanted this. He’s yearned for this and he didn’t even know it. Vox’s breathing became as erratic as his heartbeat, almost in sync. He felt sweat starting to drip, wether it be from the hot coffee adorning his now ruined shirt or from the stunning woman and her hands on his chest.

Trying to get as much as she could, (Y/n) scooted even closer, not realizing her hips were hovering right over his. Vox’s mind was running wild, his screen glitching and flicking between different error signals. His hands floating near the handles of her hips. Taking a gulp, he almost put his hands on her skin. Almost. He ended up just leaving his hands there, leaving a ghostly stabilization to the assistant who was cleaning him up like a toddler who spilt his apple juice.

(Y/n) looked up at Vox’s eyes, their eyes locking onto one another. A small smile could be faintly seen across her lips before it went back to its neutral state.

She helped him to his feet, her soft hands gently pulling on his clawed ones, slowly helping him to his feet. Handing him the remaining napkins. “I’ll schedule a trip to the dry cleaners. Does 3:45 tomorrow work well for you?”

Vox sat back down, his eyes wide in shock from what just happened. “Yeah, sure, whatever. I don’t care.”

“Alright sir, I’ll get that done, and then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay…”

(Y/n) walked out, the door closing behind her. Leaving the room back in it’s inky black darkness, with the exception of the glowing monitors.

Vox looked at his reflection in the main monitor. He could see his goofy smile. His blush adorning his cheeks. His eyes lighting up like a child who knows no sin. He looked like what he was, a lovestruck fool. A lovestruck fool for his assistant.

————

Word Count: 1006

(sorry it’s so short, i’m trying to get as many requests done as i can 😭)

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luvrxbunny · 7 months

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late night talking

Pairing: Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Prompt: Phone Sex

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, mutual masturbation (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 1.5k

A/N: GUYS IM SORRY I'VE BEEN LATE I SWEAR IM TRYING (not proofread *sobbing*)

It’s around 1 AM when Eddie stumbles in, he’s high and just a teensy bit drunk. He has a stupid smile on his face because he’s expecting to see you nice and cozy in his bed. He walks into his room and is sobered by your absence, he speed walks quietly down the hall, making a beeline for the phone hanging off the wall. He’s thinking to himself as he puts your number in, trying to figure out why you aren’t here.

Was she taken? I bet it was Harrington, that motherfucker always wanted her. Dude can’t handle the fact she chose me.

Eddie has a prideful smile on his face as your phone rings. You pick up almost immediately. “Eddie? Are you okay?” His whole body relaxes at the sound of your voice, but… if you’re okay- seeming very un-stolen by Steve Harrington, then why weren’t you here? Sadness creeps into his chest. “Where are you?” He asks, voice completely deflated. He hears some shuffling before you answer him.

“I’m at my house, Eddie. Are you okay?” You ask him again with more force this time and he starts nodding before realizing you can’t see him. “Yeah. I’m okay… Why aren’t you here?” He sounds like he could cry- and he totally could. He gets more emotional when he drinks, and pairing that with the sensitivity he gets when he’s high you’re left with a crossfaded bundle of need and intimacy.

You’d told Eddie that you wouldn’t be sleeping over at his place today, you guys’ midterms were starting tomorrow and you needed a good night’s sleep to not stress over them while testing. It’s not that you don’t sleep well with Eddie, it’s just that you guys can’t help but do a little more than sleep whenever you’re together.

“Baby…” You start slowly, using that tone that Eddie loves. You’re talking to him like you’re breaking the news to a child that Santa isn’t real, full of pity, sadness, and love. It makes him all tingly inside. “I told you that I wouldn’t be there tonight.” He gasps softly into the receiver as the memory pops back into his head. “Remember..? I told you we have testing tomorrow and we both need to sleep. What are you even doing up this late? Did you just get home?!”

His spine straightens as your voice picks up, realizing that yes, he did just get home. Although he never confirms or denies, his silence is your answer. He hears you sigh into the phone and he slumps forward, disappointed in himself for not listening to you but then he realizes something. “Well, what are you doing up? You answered pretty fast, darling.” It’s your turn to go silent now.

As previously mentioned, you and Eddie both have impressively high libidos, so every night you guys would be doing something, anything to get the other off. You stayed away from Eddie’s tonight so you could get some sleep instead of doing that. Unfortunately, it’s seemed to make its way into your routine so you’ve been fighting the urge for hours, unable to sleep a wink because of the incessant, hot, buzzing between your legs. Your body was begging for him, you’d tried to get yourself off for about 5 minutes before giving up. It just wasn’t as intense as when it’s Eddie’s hands on you, your body just wouldn't respond to you the same way. So you’ve been staring at your ceiling, praying for sleep to take you, and then Eddie called.

“Um…” He smiles, holding back a laugh as you try and figure out your answer. “I just miss you.” The message is sweet and heart-warming but you dropped your voice to that whisper you get when you need him. When he’s just practicing some chords and you don’t know how to ask him to take care of you. When you work your way over and tell him you ‘need his help’... you’re using that voice and he’s already getting hard.

“Yeah? You miss me, baby?” His head looks both ways down the hallway as his hand comes to the front of his jeans, massaging his rapidly growing cock. “What do you mean? What do you miss, honey?” You’re squirming in bed, in Eddie’s t-shirt, and very ready for where this conversation is headed. Your hand has already made its way between your legs, rubbing yourself gently through your underwear as Eddie questions you.

“I miss everything about you, Eddie.” You stick your hand into your panties, gathering some wetness to spread over your clit before pulling your hand out and rubbing yourself over your underwear. Eddie’s on the same wavelength as you, his hand now fully inside his boxers, teasing his leaking tip. He can hear your breathing quiver and his eyes roll back into his head. The fact that even though you’re both so far apart, you’re perfectly in sync. “Tell me about it, baby.”

You whimper into his ear. “Eddie… Are you touching yourself?” His knees almost give out and he has to turn around so he can lean against the wall. His hand wraps around his cock and pulls up slowly as his eyes close, picturing you. “Yes.” You’re so silent that he thinks he answered wrong somehow and his hand stops. He’s waiting, listening- maybe you fell asleep. Then he hears it, the subtle whine in your breath and a slick noise behind the static of the phone.

His hand moves again, stiffly in order to keep the phone perfectly placed on his ear to hear your noises. “Fuck, are- Are you touching yourself, love?” You moan his name into the receiver and slide your hand back into your pants, stuffing two fingers into your soaking pussy and whining to Eddie about how good it feels. You lay back onto your pillows, pulling the phone with you, and imagine that Eddie’s above you, that it’s his fingers stretching you out and pressing into your G-Spot. As if he can read your mind, Eddie prompts you.

“Tell me what you’re thinking, baby. You’re real quiet over there, give me something to work with, love” You giggle lightly at his request and he groans in your ear, his hand squeezing around his cock as it pulses at the sound. “What? The thought of me isn’t enough?” He doubles his pace and shakes his head at no one. “Not when I’ve had the real thing f- for so long.” His words come out as a raspy whine, almost a sob as he continues. “How could you take her away from me?” You’re aroused yet confused at his words, you listen to him moan a bit before questioning him. “What- Eddie, who-” He cuts you off with a hushed sob. “Your pussy- need her so bad.” Your teeth tear into your bottom lip as moans try to fight their way out of your mouth.

Eddie’s moaning about all the things he’s going to do to you and you can see them all perfectly, you can hear the truth in his voice, in everything he says. He’s whispering into the phone, making the whole ordeal even hotter. You had never stopped to actually think about why though, you pictured him in his bed, hand down his pants and legs spread for you. You’ve caught him like that before and the image plagues you constantly- but Eddie doesn’t have a phone in his room…

Your pussy clenches onto your fingers as the image in your head shifts. Your head is now depicting Eddie as he truly is, back against the wall, phone in one hand and his other is shoved down his pants, moving wildly under the denim. You can’t hold in the moan that arises at the realization. “Eddie- Fuck, baby are you in your hallway?” He groans out a whimper into the phone and his cock begins to throb, his brain clouding over with thoughts of you, everything you guys have done, everything he wants to do, and everything you’d let him do. “Needed you.” That’s all he can get out before he’s giving you his little hushed sounds. You can feel yourself winding up, and the fire in your stomach begins to spread throughout your body. You’re gushing around your fingers as you listen to Eddie. You can tell he’s getting close, right on the edge and you want nothing more than to push him over.

“M’ gonna cum, Eddie. I-” You’re cut off by your whines as your hand leaves the receiver, using it to rub your clit, desperately working yourself closer to the edge. “Tried earlier but- I don’t feel like y-yo-” Your eyes roll back, your thighs shake and you try your best to hold all your sounds in but little whimpers make their way through the phone as your orgasm racks through you. You hear Eddie moan- probably louder than he should and a loud commotion. Your eyes are shut as you come down and you can hear Eddie moaning- then cursing- in the distance.

You pry your eyes open and grab the phone again. “Eds?” He grunts out a few more curses and some chuckles before answering. “H-hey, sweetheart. I’m okay I-” He laughs at himself again, bringing a smile to your face with the sound. “I- My knees gave out. I fell” He sounds adorably embarrassed as you laugh at him He giggles along timidly and you assure him that it’s cute until you both fall asleep.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works, and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

#eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader

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devilishchaos · 7 months

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BABYYY drop the daddy Ruben fic, don't be shy <3

Calls | Dad!Rúben Dias imagine

Rating / genre: pure fluff

Pairings: Reader x Rúben Dias

Summary: Rúben goes on a business trip. Me and our son George are sad he is away, so we face time him.

Warnings: use of pet names "babe", "baby"

Word Count: 1 347 words

This is a work of fiction. The story, names, characters and incidents either are product or the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

While begging my husband to go on this 3 day business trip, I thought to myself "What can happen in the span of 3 days, right?" Well, a lot.

I'm currently 27 weeks pregnant with twins and have a year and a half year old baby-toddler that needs my attention 24/7. Not that I am complaining but the pregnancy alone is being hard on me and my beautiful son throwing constant tantrums about missing his dad doesn't help my situation. Now, I was usually the preferred parent, but George had the tendency to not want to eat and nap while Rúben was away.

Today was going to be a long and hard day for me, I just knew it. I woke up from my nap at 7:00 am, got ready and headed to wake George up because I had an appointment with my OBGYN in an hour and had no one to look after him while I was gone, so I had to take him with me.

It was a battle but I somehow managed to get him ready for the day, made it to my appointment safely and on time and both of us were back in the coziness of our household before we knew it.

The moment we stepped through the door - the nausea hit me. And my head started spinning. I somehow made it to the bedroom and laid down on the bed and tried to take deep breaths in hopes for it to go away faster. I closed your eyes for a second and out of nowhere a loud cry pierced the silence.

With eyes wide open, all my senses on alert, I sat up in the bed and looked at the door to see George standing there, tears falling from his eyes and his tiny hands holding his favorite stuffed animal close to his chest.

"What happened baby? Are you okay?" I asked, holding out my hands in his direction.

"Dada.." he managed to say in between wheezing.

I gave him a sad knowing look. Ever since he was born he was a mama's boy but ever since I got pregnant again he looked up to Rúben more and more, and wanted to do everything that he was doing whether it was directed towards me or other people. And Rúben was the happiest person on earth, soaking in every moment because he knew that it could be taken away from him just as fast as it came.

"You miss daddy, huh bud?" I softly asked as I helped him get up on the bed to join me.

He nodded, the movement making his tiny curls shake a little.

"How about we call him? Would that make you feel better?"

"Yeah.." George mumbled, while wiping his eyes.

I was already reaching for my phone before I got an answer from him. Since Rúben is in New York and we are in Manchester there is a 5 hour time difference, but it was now way after noon in Manchester and knowing Rúben, he had been awake for some time, so that's why I suggested calling him. Okay and maybe because I miss him too and want to talk to him, but that's another topic.

I dialed his contact and gave George the phone. After two rings I saw Rúben's gorgeous face and he saw a head full of curls and two big dark eyes watching closely the screen, since George held the phone so close to him.

"Hey, gorg-" your husband started "-oh, hello big man. What are you doing with mama's phone?" you saw him smiling widly.

"Dada, miss you." George said and started crying again.

"Oh, no. Don't cry buddy. I miss you so much too."

"Home."

"I'm coming home tomorrow, baby and I'm not going anywhere after that, okay?" Rúben asked as a sad smile made its way on his face.

"Home now?" George asked as he tilted his head slightly the exact same way Rúben does and it made your heart throb.

"I wish buddy, but I have one more thing to do and then I promise I'm gonna catch the first flight back home and I'm coming straight to you. But I need you to do something for me, okay. You have to eat lunch and dinner, and you have to go to sleep when mommy says. Can you do that for me? That way I'm going to come home faster. Do we have a deal, G?" Rúben asked, slightly raising his eyebrows.

"A deal.." his son responded while rubbing his eye "Now play."

"Okay, you can go and play now. Loves you." your husband said as he leaned into the camera and kissed it, your guys's little tradition that now George did too.

"Loves you." George said cutely and kissed your front camera. He gave you the phone and ran out of your bedroom and into his playroom.

I took the phone and positioned it against my big water bottle in front of me as I greeted my hansome husband "Hi, meu amor."

"Hey, mama. How are you holding up? Big man giving you a hard time?" Rúben asked you giving you sad eyes.

"He just misses you." I exhaled "Nothing changed after the call yesterday, we're going to see what happens today. I miss you too, tho. We miss you too." I simply explained rubbing my round belly.

"I'm sorry babe. I miss all of you. Can't wait to be back home. I'm never leaving again." he shook his head as to make it more believable.

"Rúben, we talked about this. What you're doing right now is for your career and for us. So that you can take more time off while the twins come, just as you did when we welcomed George. Don't feel guilty, you're not doing anything wrong, babe. We'll get through this. We have to. In fact it's almost over." I smiled at him trying to lighten the mood.

"This is why I made you my wife. Eu te amo muito." Rúben said looking lovingly at the screen in front of him.

"I love you more."

"Period." he said while snapping his fingers, which made both of you to start giggling.

"Stop. I'm gonna pee my pants!" I said in between laughing.

"Okay, okay. So how did the appointment go? Everything alright?" Rúben's face went completely serious in a spare of seconds.

"Yes. Babies are doing just fine." I said and took a breathing break "I however, am struggling. Babe, I'm 27 weeks into this pregnancy and do you know what my doctor told me? That I'm measuring full term compared to a singleton pregnancy. That's very overwhelming considering that I hopefully have 8 or 9, 10 weeks left in the absolute ideal case scenario. And technically I am still 6 months pregnant. At the very end of my 6th month. Can you believe this?" I looked at him with a questioning face.

Rúben's eyes went wide "Wow."

"Wow indeed. I mean..that's what I get for having children with a freaking giant, I guess."

"Hey. You looooove this giant. And the babies that you both made." Rúben winked at me, eyes going soft and a smile appearing on his lips "Everything will be okay. Just try not to overwork yourself. And no, I'm not saying don't do nothing and just lay in bed all day. But you are very pregnant and are taking care of a fussy baby-toddler. Please, just take it easy while I'm away. When I come back it will be different."

"I'm gonna try my best. Now I have to go to make a snack because I'm starving and you have work to do. So talk to you later. You also take it easy, okay." I lovingly smiled at him, damn I can't wait for it to be tomorrow already.

"Alright, talk to you later. Loves you."

"Loves you." both of us said at the same time, smiling at each other, leaning in and kissing the front cameras on our phones, sharing a virtual kiss and ending the call.

#ruben dias #ruben gato dias #ruben dias fic #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias imagines #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias x you #ruben dias x y/n #ruben dias fluff #football imagine #football imagines

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lo-vearchive · 10 months

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Forgive Me (Pt. 2)

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x female reader

Summary: After reconciling in your bedroom, Miguel disappears on you for a week. Giving up on any hopes of romance, your friends plan a night out for you to cheer up. Too bad your boss makes an appearance and catches you with an attractive stranger on a stormy night. Read Part One: here

Word Count: 4463 words

Content: Miguel being a rude bastard, Miguel asking for forgiveness (again), arguments, possessiveness, alcohol consumption, tobacco consumption, 18+ (minors DNI), no p in v but things get spicy at the end, female fingering, finger sucking, misogyny, insecurity, swearing, hurt and comfort, office sex (no p in v), questionable Spanish

Note: ANGST! Got carried away once again. Lowkey not proofread. I love angst and Miguel being vulnerable. If you are into angst, you will enjoy this. Feel free to correct my Spanish and ask for any other cw to be added. Thank you for the 1K+ notes on Pt. 1. Have fun, horndogs ;)

It has been seven days since you last saw Miguel O’Hara.

After spending a full 48 hours by your side, he had gone back to work. You decided to join him at Alchemax the next day but found his office empty. At first, you thought he was occupied with Spider-Man business, so you kept yourself busy with answering his overflowing email box. Slowly the sun set behind the skyline of Nueva York and the messages ran out, leaving behind a feeling of uneasiness in your stomach.

You [sent Friday, 6 pm]: Hey, are you coming to work today?

You [sent Friday, 10 pm]: I’m going home for the night. Call me when you are home. I miss you :)

You [sent Saturday, 5 am]: Are you okay?

You [sent Saturday, 1 pm]: I’m getting really worried. Where are you?

You [sent Saturday, 5 pm]: I emailed you in case you lost your phone. Call me asap.

You [sent Sunday, 7 pm]: I’ll see you at work tomorrow.

You [sent Monday, 9 am]: Lyla said you’re okay but won’t tell me what’s going on. Says I don’t have clearance. Please call me.

You [sent Monday 10 am]: Are you actually ignoring me?

You [sent Tuesday, 1 am]: My best friend you’re an asshole and I should never let you near my pussy ever again.

You [sent Tuesday 1:23 am] Are you ghosting me? You know we work together, right?

You [sent Tuesday, 3:30 am]: I hate you Miguel O’Hara.

Friday rolled around and your best friend had enough of your drunk late-night facetime calls. She gathered a group of your high school girlfriends and decided a night out in the town would be the perfect remedy. “Fuck him, babe,” Katy states, sliding a shot glass across the table. “You should report him to HR for being an ass.”

You laughed and tipped the glass into your mouth. The tequila burnt its way down your throat. “I’m just going to find a new job. I can’t be dealing with this shit right now.”

Your friend Soo let out a burp. “Did you let him hit it?”

You shake your head. “No,” you cough. “We came close to it, like above the pants stuff— do you think that’s why he’s ignoring me? Because I didn’t put out right away?”

“Bitch,” Katy chides, slapping the tabletop, “be fucking for real. You look like a busty, hot secretary from some comic book. He should be lucky you let him touch your tits!”

Your friends nodded along in agreement. Katy grabs the sides of your chair and spins it around, facing you to the restaurant bar. “You see that guy there?” she points at a man with messy blond hair in an open-collar white shirt. “He’s been eyeing you all night. Go talk to him right now.”

The tequila must have heightened your bravery as you found yourself walking across the dimly lit restaurant and to the wall. Stealing a glance at him from the corner of your eye, you ask the bartender for, “a rum and coke please.”

“You can add her drink to my tab,” the man says just like you hoped he would. “I hope you don’t mind. I saw your friends fussing over you earlier and you looked like you needed a drink.”

“Is it that obvious?” You ask, letting out a laugh. “You’re right, I do need a little pick-me-upper tonight.”

“My name is John,” he says.

You introduced yourself and slide in the empty seat next to him. “So, what’s going on with you?” he questions, sipping his beer.

You carefully lift your drink from the bar top and circled the rim with your index finger. “I’m not sure if I wanna’ trauma dump on a stranger.”

“Sometimes talking to strangers helps.”

You contemplate his words and sigh. Your friends would kick you if you said the name Miguel O’Hara again in their general vicinity. You chose to divulge a little to the mystery man. “Things got a bit complicated with someone I really cared about. Everything was going well and then he disappeared suddenly, and I don’t know why.”

John listens to you carefully, nodding to himself. “You know what I do when I’m confused?”

“What?”

“I take a smoke break to chill out,” he answers, standing up. “Care to join me?”

You downed the contents of your glass and follow him out a door that open to a back alley behind the restaurant. Rain pours down heavily, and you both huddle under a dingy metal shed. The cold air bites your arms sharply as John lights the end of his cigarette and brings it to his mouth. “It can be frustrating when you’re left without answers but a girl like you has nothing to worry about.”

You smile at his words. You take the cigarette off his hand and take a drag. The smoke fills your lungs, making your head spin a little. The light-headedness reminds you of how you felt last time when Miguel was in your arms. Airy, free, and light. No matter what you do, all your thoughts lead back to him. You shake away the memories and pass the cigarette back to John.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” a stern voice asks.

A man melts out of the shadows in the alley and into the light shining from a streetlamp above. You recognize him. “Miguel?”

He doesn’t look at you and keeps his eyes focused on John. “Who is he?” he asks with a deep frown.

“Listen, I’m off work right now,” you clear your throat, sticking your nose up in the air. “I don’t have to explain—”

“Look, man,” John interrupts, “no need to get all worked about this. We are just talking.”

Miguel lets out a harsh laugh. “Yeah, right,” he spits and gets in his face. “You could have done that at the bar. Why the fuck are you out here alone with her? What were you planning on doing?”

“Mr. O’Hara!” you exclaim, stepping in between them. “You are out of line!”

He raises his eyebrows at your formality but keeps his attention on John over your shoulder. “Buddy,” John says, wrapping an arm around your waist and moving you to the side. “She is allowed to talk to whoever she wants. I suggest you leave us alone now.”

The touch doesn’t go unnoticed by Miguel. His nostrils flare and his eyes turned red with anger. He steps closer to John until he is looming over the poor man. You often forget how big your boss is compared to everyone around him. The scene looks almost comical with how John tries to puff out his chest. “Te calmas o te calmo,” (Calm yourself, or I’ll calm you down) Miguel snarls.

Whatever John sees in his face is enough to make him reconsider. He holds his hands up in surrender and backs away slowly. Stopping in front of you he pushes the half-burnt cigarette into your hand and whispers, “If this is the guy you were talking about, then maybe it’s a good thing he disappears. I’ll be inside if you still want to talk.”

He walks away from the alley and into the restaurant, leaving you with Miguel alone in the alley. You watch in silence as his body trembles, and you can’t tell if it’s from anger or the rain hammering away at his back.

He breaks the silence. “So, you’re letting strangers into our private business?”

You snort loudly. “You don’t get to speak to me like that,” you tell him, taking another drag. “Especially after disappearing on me. You can’t just strut back into my life and tell me who I can confide in.”

“I was tending to some urgent matters,” he says, brushing his wet hair away from his forehead. “So I took the time to handle them. I can’t be around you every second of the day acting as your lap dog.”

The heat from the cigarette burns your skin. “What the hell is wrong with you?” you raise your voice, throwing your hands in the air. “You’re acting like I want you on a leash! I just wanted to know you were okay.”

“Clearly I’m okay,” he replies, rolling his eyes.

Your lips tug into a deep scowl at his tone. “Did you ever stop to consider how your actions affected me? How lost and confused I felt waiting by the phone every day?”

“It wasn’t intentional,” Miguel matches your tone. “You know I am a busy man, and that I have responsibilities. But you’d rather live in some fantasy land where I’m just some monster out to hurt you! You can’t begin to understand the weight I carry on my shoulders.”

Anger surges through your body. “How am I supposed to understand when you don’t tell me anything? Hell, your AI knows more about you than I do. It’s like you only care about missions or work and nothing else—”

“Sometimes in life, personal matters have to take a backseat,” he cuts you off, harshly. “Not everyone can put on a short skirt and high heels, waltz into work, type a few memos and then call it a night.”

“You misogynist fuck!” You scream back at him, resisting the urge to slap him silly. “I hate you!”

“I hate you too!” he yells back in your face with bloodshot eyes.

You spin on your heels and begin walking towards the main road. Rage begins to bubble inside you and reaches your throat. You turn around just as you reach the sidewalk and call out, “You know what? It doesn’t matter if you disappear again because I have hated you since the moment I met you. I hated you when everyone at work warned me about you. I hated you all those times you dismissed me like an afterthought. And I hated you when you came to my room that night begging for a second chance. So, I don’t care if you hate me, or think I’m useless or unimportant cause have hated you longer and harder and for better fucking reasons!”

You take another drag from the cigarette and then crush it underneath your pretty high heels. You make a right at the end of the alley and begin walking up the street. Warm tears spill down your face as you shiver in the rain. Katy was right, he was an asshole. An asshole that made you feel dumb for having a normal job or human emotions. But maybe you were just an idiot for falling in love with a man who didn’t respect you. Love wasn’t supposed to be this hard, but here you were feeling small and crying at the side of the road.

The sound of screeching tires brings you out of your self-pity. A sleek black car pulls up on the other side of the road and the passenger window rolls down. Miguel’s face emerges from behind the glass. “Ven aquí!” (come here) he calls out.

You ignore him and keep walking ahead. You have no idea where you are going, but you would rather eat rocks than speak to him.

From the corner of your eyes, you see Miguel make a sharp left, almost hitting oncoming traffic and pulling up beside you. “Get in the car!”

Your feet don’t stop moving so he slowly inches his car to match your speed. “Estoy harto. (I’m sick of this) Let’s talk!”

Honks and yells filled the night as people grew frustrated with his speed. “Stop,” you hiss, bending down to the window. “You are embarrassing me!”

“Get in the car then,” he says, with a clenched jaw. “You’re gonna’ catch a cold in the rain.”

“Stop pretending like you care,” you snarl, kicking the side of his car.

“A-YO LADY!” a man yells out of his yellow cab. “Get in the damn car! Your boyfriend is holding up traffic!”

A pleased smirk spread across Miguel’s face at the man’s remarks. You let out a frustrated grunt and yanked the door open, slipping into the passenger seat. “Put your seatbelt on,” he says, picking up speed.

You begrudgingly obey but wished that his car would get rear-ended so hard that his fat head would go through the windshield. “You look like you want me dead, babe,” he commented with a nervous laugh.

“Don’t call me that,” you snap, adjusting the belt over your soaking dress. “Where are we going?”

“Back to Alchemax,” he points at the GPS screen. “The freeway flooded, and it will be a while until it clears up. I have a spare set of clothes I keep in the office for overnighters. You can change while we wait for the storm to blow over.”

“I don’t want your charity,” you grumble, crossing my hand over my chest.

“I know,” he says. “I just want to take care of you.”

You disliked how your stomach felt at his words. “I left my bag behind at the restaurant.”

“I picked it up, it’s in the back seat.”

“I didn’t pay my tab.”

“It’s taken care of. Your friends know you’re fine, too. Just relax.”

Miguel leans over to turn your seat warmer on and warmth spreads across your chest and down your limbs. He drives in silence with only the soft white noise of radio static playing in the background. Occasionally you tear your gaze away from the furiously working windshield wipers and steal glances at his face. The headlights from other cars make the slopes of his cheek and the plumpness of his lips visible even on a stormy night. His warm complexion has turned pale, and you ponder if it was because of your interaction earlier.

You both pull up into the Alchemax parking lot and get out of the car. The security team must be watching through the cameras, wondering why one of their lead engineers was coming into work late at night with his drenched secretary. You quickly follow him into the elevator and up to the floor with his office. He opens the office door, and you slide inside into the dark space.

“Lyla,” he calls out and the room illuminates on command. “Lights.”

Miguel walks up to a storage cupboard and retrieves a towel in one hand and fresh clothes in the other. He passes them to you, and you quietly enter the adjacent washroom to change. You peel your damp dress off your skin and shiver as the chilly air hits you all over. Rubbing the towel quickly over your cold skin, you slip into an oversized t-shirt and shorts. It takes two knots of the drawstring, but you manage to keep the waistband tied around your naval.

You find Miguel waiting for you outside. He had changed into a shirt that hugged his slender waist and pants that hung dangerously low under his taut stomach. He pulls the towel out of your hand and drapes it over your head. His hands gently rub the threads against your wet hair in soft, circular motions. You lean into his touch involuntarily. “I can do it myself,” you complain but made no move to reach for the fabric.

“I know,” he replies. “I want to do it for you.”

“Please don’t.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re doing that thing again,” you said, “and it’s messing with my head.”

“What thing?”

“The thing where you start acting kind after being mean,” you explain in a small voice. “I don’t like it. It’s confusing”

He tugs the towel back so you can look into each other’s eyes. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad,” he speaks, gently. “I just lost my shit when I saw you with him.”

“You cut off all contact when all I wanted was to know if you were okay,” your voice shakes as you stare at your feet. “You left me all alone, what was I supposed to do? Wait for you to change your mind?”

“I know I messed up, baby. I was wrong” he sighs, inching down his forehead to meet yours. “I should have communicated with you, but sometimes on missions, things get complicated. I don’t always like the things I have to do, and recently I’m having a difficult time making peace with it. It’s like the harder I try to do the right thing, the more damage I do. So sometimes, it’s just better to be alone rather than pretend I’m okay around other people.”

His words hurt your heart. You knew that his missions take a toll on him. In the past whenever you tried to inquire about its contents he wouldn’t answer. You wouldn’t push, afraid that he’d pull away, but it seems that he was pulling away regardless.

“When you’re gone,” you clear your throat, trying to speak through your narrowing trachea, “I worry that you might be laying dead in some universe, and I’d be none the wiser. I know that being Spider-Man is a sacrifice, but I don’t care about the world. I only care about you. So, when you treat me this way, it’s like I can’t breathe.”

He cups your face and places a soft kiss right on your cheekbone “Forgive me.”

“You say that a lot,” you remind him with a frown.

“I know,” he nods, “and I still mean it. I’m just an idiot who doesn’t know how to find the balance in life. I love that you care about me, and I want you to continue caring about me.”

“I don’t know, Mr. O’Hara,” you said. “I can’t ignore the way you speak to me at times. It feels as if you think we’re not equals. I am not some idiot. I am not beneath you just because I work under you.”

He groaned at the sound of his last name. Every time you called him that, it made the space between feel bigger. “I have seen a million universes, nena, (babe) and you are not beneath me in any of them,” he curls a damp strand behind your ear, “Unless we are in bed, then you’re definitely under me.”

“Miguel!” you chide, punching him in the stomach. “No es broma! (It’s not a joke) I’m being serious!”

He lets out an oof and backs away. His fangs poke out from underneath his curled lips and in that moment, he looks as carefree. He wraps his large hands around your arms and holds your attention. “I know broken trust isn’t easily mendable, but I’m going to try my hardest. I won’t leave you out in the dark or make you feel small. I’ll think twice before I open my stupid mouth. I’ll even ask Lyla to give you full access to my missions. Wh-when you see what I have to do- what I must do, please don’t hate me.”

“Miggy,” you pout, reaching for his face. “I was really, really angry when I said those things to you. I can never hate you. My heart won’t let me.”

His toothy grin appears again, and Miguel draws you into him. His smooth lips find yours and he cranes your head back to find the angle that leaves you breathless. You run the pads of your thumb gently across the slopes of his cheeks. It never ceased to surprise you that his skin was so soft under his stubble. Without breaking your kiss, your shuffle back and walk him to his desk chair. You smile into his lips as he shakes his head when you move him back and down to sit. His hands wrap around your wrists. “D-don’t leave,” he cries out.

You shake your head and take a seat on his lap with your legs dangling off the side. Miguel’s hands find your jaw and he turns your mouth to his. You wrap your fingers in his hair and tug him closer. You let out a content hum as his fangs softly dig into your lips, breaking the skin. The taste of metal fills your mouth, and you pull away to look at him. He sits in your embrace, with red-stained lips and is just as breathless. “Sorry,” he sheepishly says. “I usually have them under control. It’s just you’re in my office and in my clothes. It’s making my head spin a little.”

You laugh at his words and gently pull his hair back. Pressing a wet kiss to his exposed throat you ask, “Miggy, how come we haven’t had sex yet?”

“Honestly?” he lets out a choked moan.

“Honestly,” you hum, licking his jaw.

His hands suddenly grab you by the elbows and spin you around on his lap, so his chest is facing your back. His warm breath hits the nape of your neck. A shiver runs down your spine. “I haven’t fucked you yet because once I’m inside you,” he whispers into your ear, “I’ll never want to be anywhere else. I wouldn’t want to eat, sleep, work, or be Spider-Man. I think I’ll just want to stay buried in you all the time.”

“Miguel,” you moan, clutching your thighs together.

“Tsk-tsk,” he clicks his tongue. “Don’t hide from me.”

His large hand slips between your thighs and pushes your legs apart. He turns the chair around until you’re both facing his work desk. “Up,” he commands, slapping the side of your thighs.

You gingerly obey and place your bare feet on the edge of his desk. His hands slip under your shirt, and he fumbles with the knot. Impatient with the knots, he uses a sharp claw to cut through the drawstring. Your breath hitches as he pushes the loose shorts down your legs and off your feet. He wraps his fingers behind your knees and draws your legs apart. He puts his chin over your shoulder and bunches your shirt up to get a good look at your pink underwear. “Baby,” he coos. “You gotta’ let me have this once we are done. A little souvenir for when I’m away.”

Your stomach tightens at his suggestion. You glance at him and then the office door,. “Someone will see us,” you nervously gulp.

“You let me worry about that,” he says and presses a kiss to the side of your forehead, “and just relax. I’m not gonna’ let anyone else see my girl spread out like this.”

He runs his knuckles down your bare stomach and across the clothed cunt. Electricity shoots up your body and you almost curl up in his arms. Miguel’s fingertips find a quickly dampening spot on the fabric. “Huh,” he huffs. “Is this me or rainwater?”

You cry, arching into his touch.

“I guess it’s just me,” he grins against your shoulder.

He slides your underwear off your legs and tosses it on the table. It lands on a pile of paperwork you had put aside from him earlier in the week. Miguel stops breathing at the sight of your glistening, swollen pussy. A loud moan escapes your throat as his fingers part your folds and glide back and forth. You were sure that the security guards patrolling this floor would have heard you down the hallway. You almost miss his question over the sensations of pleasure spreading through your body.

“Do you want my finger inside you?”

You nod against his cheek and reach behind to clutch a fistful of his hair to brace for impact. He lowers his down until his thick, middle digit is nudging your opening. You must have been soaking his thighs with how easily his digit sinks inside. You bit your lip harshly to contain the sounds threatening to escape your mouth. It’s your turn to hold your breath when Miguel’s other hand begins to stroke your clit. Once, twice, thrice.

When he speaks, his voice is hoarse. “You clench around my finger every time I flick your clit.”

Not that you needed proof, but Miguel does it again and you shake with pleasure. “See?” he gasps, and captures your lips in a sloppy kiss.

He he pulls back to hold your eyes and you breathe his shaky breaths in. You close your eyes and imagine how it would look to hold his hard cock in your hands while he played with your pussy. He tears you away from your fantasy by hooking his fingers inside on an angle. You almost arch completely off his lap. He moves his free hand away from your clit and presses you back into him. His hard bulge pressed into your ass.

“Here?” Miguel moans and licks your lips. “Tell me where? Right here? Ah, here.”

His fingers find that spot again and he massages his fingers against it. You nod furiously and my hands move to claw forearms. He softly bites your shoulder in retaliation and his free hand resumes working against your clit, picking up rhythm. “Can I put another finger inside?” he asks, breathing hard. “I promise it will feel good.”

“Oh-kay,” you gasp, rocking your hips on his hand.

His index finger slithers into your pussy, and you forget how to speak. You begin to twist and turn in his lap. He pulls away from your clit to press down hard against your stomach so he can keep you in place. You slide your ass over his crotch with every movement of his fingers.

“Mig-Mig-Mig,” you pant, moving your hips to his set rhythm.

“Good? I bet that feels so good.”

“Gah—”

He presses soft kisses onto your cheek as you sink into his arms. You begin to tighten further around him. You realize that this is exactly how you always want to be—full of Miguel’s fingers, touch, and love. His tongue slips into your mouth as his fingers begin curling into you faster. Your moans and groans echo through the office. His left hand leaves your stomach and reaches for your clit again. It takes seven swipes, one for each day he left you alone, for you to seize around his finger. His mouth never leaves yours as he drinks all of your pleasurable cries.

Slowly, the current leaves your body and you’re able to take in your surround. Your cheeks burn with realization. Miguel had just fingered you open on his desk at your workplace. The very same desk you set up for him every morning. Your fingers slide up to his hair and you hide your face in the crook of his neck. “Don’t be shy now,” he chuckles, “One day I’ll fuck you all over this office, nena.”

You shriek and lightly slap his arm. Miguel gently slides his fingers out of your cunt, eliciting a soft groan, and brings his to his mouth.

He hums with eyes closed at the taste. “You taste so good,” he mumbles around his fingers.

“Ugh,” Lyla gags at a distance. “Be glad I activated noise cancellation.”

A/N: Thoughts?

781 notes · View notes

romancefranaticstay · 18 days

Text

TᑌTOᖇ ᗰE

Category: ♥ Fluff, smut ♥

Teacher!Seungmin x fem!reade!student

Another day, another time, it sucked. You were a student at the university of Seoul. You were doing great at almost every subject you choosed, exspect... math.

You didn't even know why math was one of your subjects. You never choosed it. You even sended a mail, but you couldn't change now. So you had to survive it this year. Your worst nightmare, you worst fear, *math*.

Your teacher didn't had time to tutor you, so he asked another math-teacher to help you. Today was the day to meet him, after school.

The entire day went very slowly, but atleast your friends were comique so it wasn't to boring. Your teachers were always gossiping about every student. And then they dare to say that we are horrible?! How?

After school you had to stay in your classroom. You were waiting and playing with your pencils. When he wasn't here yet for the past 5 minutes, you decided to walk around the classroom. Just walking and staring at the walls.

Suddenly the door opened and you saw an interesting man walking inside.

'Miss... I/N Y/N?" his eyes widened when he saw you. You were very beautifull, he could not deny.

'Yes, that is me, i am here for you tutoring lessons.'

'You can seat yourself next to me.'

You walked over and seated yourself. The chair hurted your butt, but that does every chair in this university.

'Could you tell me what you don't understand?'

'Everything.'

'Everything is much.'

'Yeah i don't know much about math.'

He started with chapter six, because thats the most important chapter. His voice was very soft and it made you relaxed. You could quit understand a bit, but it was very difficult, because maybe this would sound weird... he was extremely hot. You could call him 'smexy'.

You were staring a bit to him. Not really focusing on this theorie of this chapter. His lips were cute, his nose also, but his eyes. You just could stare in them forever.

He saw you watching his face. He actually didn't mind it. You snapped out of you deep-stare.

'I am sorry, i was just wandering into my thoughts, mine apologies.'

'It is okay, this part is not very important.'

He was actually only supposed to teach you for 1 hour, but he taught you for 2 hours. You didn't watch the clock, you loved each other's presence. He could explain everything so well, his voice was so beautiful. For him, 2 hours feels like 10 minutes. Its beautiful; hands turned the page.

Suddenly your alarm went off, and everything was a little disrupted. Seungmin looked at his watch.

'Oops, it's already 8pm, my apologies. I'll give you some papers to work on at home. You have lessons from me every day, so finish these papers by tomorrow if possible.'

'That's probably possible, depending on what tasks I still have to complete from my other teachers. Thank you for this lesson.'

you stood up and started packing everything up.

'I'll see you again tomorrow. Have a nice day!'

He watched you leave the classroom. He never noticed what a beautiful figure you have. He had already seen you walking around, but of course he had never spoken to you. Of course he had never spoken to you before, you are a student and he is a teacher. It is not forbidden, but it is frowned upon. Still, some girls flirted with him, sometimes tried to touch him themselves, but always avoided them. If you flirted with him, he wouldn't avoid it. But you weren't really that romantic, you read a lot of novels, but even when you were little you realized that not everything in the books could be fulfilled.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You and your teacher started to grow a little closer together. You could say that you two formed a friendly bond. Sometimes you got jealous when some girls tried to twist Seungmin around their fingers. But yes, Seungmin also got jealous when boys came to you. You were very beautiful and intelligent, so boys took their chance, even sometimes girls tried to take their chance with you. You didn't always notice that. Your eyes were actually only focused on Seungmin.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You sat in your class and you followed the reading. You sometimes overheard some conversations that were happening in front of you. You were learning about Korean Culture when you suddenly heard Seungmin's name in front of you.

"He's so handsome, could he be that good in bed?" two girls giggled.

You straightened your back and started to lean a little closer.

"He could play with me."

You looked at them as if they were crazy. Seungmin isn't that type of guy. What are they thinking, talking about him like that, aren't they ashamed? Your brow furrowed as you heard their multiple conversations. Deep inside you were burning with jealousy, so many girls wanted to have him. So many girls, some were so beautiful in your eyes. You started to focus on your classes again, but what if... what if Seungmin enjoys all that attention? What if he likes one of those many girls? What if he's... a spicy teacher... if you know what I mean? No, that's not possible, no, Seungmin a spicy teacher? Maybe...

You were walking around the square with one of your friends, just chatting about boys and also the new Arcade. You went through the main hall when you saw a group of girls surrounding Seungmin. They all asked him questions and if he could tutor them. They gave him cookies and so much attention. It made you angry, even though there is absolutely nothing between you and Seungmin. He saw you looking from a distance, he saw anger in your eyes. He turned away from all the girls and came towards you. Why is he coming towards me, you thought. You panicked a bit, he looked so good today. His sleeves were rolled up, his blouse was very tight, his buttons could pop off at any moment. You looked in all directions, your girlfriend looked at you strangely, as if you were a mad dog. You dragged her with you to the girls' toilets.

Seungmin tried to speak to you but it was already too late. Of course he wasn't allowed in the girls' toilets.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------Lately you started to distance yourself from him. He didn't understand why. He tried to have a conversation with you outside of school, but you avoided him every time. The tutoring sessions were also filled with a kind of tension and not good tension. Sometimes he tried to sit close to you, just to give you some comfort.

He wanted to ask you about it, but he didn't want to bother you with all those questions. At some point he had enough, because he cared about you a lot. He wanted to love you and he would do anything to fix it.

Tutoring was over, and you started packing your things. You wanted to go to the door, but suddenly he blocked you.

“I can't take it anymore Y/N. What did I do wrong? Did I hurt your feelings? Did I accidentally hurt you?'

'What are you talking about?'

"Lately I feel like you're trying to avoid me, have I done something?"

You were quiet. You looked at the ground.

'No nothing.'

He lifted your chin with his index finger.

'Do not lie to me. You can tell me.' '

No, I can't do that.'

'Why not?'

“It's not your fault, it's just…”

you took a deep breath

“all the girls are hanging around you. Flirting with you and for some strange reason it makes me jealous and an-'

he interrupted you by kissing you on the lips. His tongue slid through your mouth. He placed his hand on the back of your head. You opened your mouth wide, giving him all the access. He slid his tongue out of your mouth.

"Does that answer?"

'Don't know.' you teased.

"Maybe you should be a little more clear?"

"Of course princess."

He brought you in for another kiss. This time he held your cheeks with both hands. He stroked it with his thumbs. He made you step back until you bumped into his desk. He opened your legs with his knee. From your mouth his tongue went to your neck. He started licking it like a puppy. You whined softly. You heard him laugh against your neck. His fingers slid into your underwear. He slid between your folds, which were very wet. 'Wet for me? I love that.' He began to gently caress your clit while still sucking on your neck.

You started to position yourself on his desk. He pulled your panties down so he could get a good view. You could see through his pants that he was already hard. You took off his belt and pulled his pants down enough so you could take out his member. He groaned when you started to gently pump his dick. Just to make sure it was hard enough. He positioned himself at your entrance, he began to quietly nestle himself into you.

He held you tight as he slowly started pumping into you. You felt safe with him, his warmth. You heard his heart beat faster. He whispered soft words into your ears, which actually made you more excited. The fact that he was only your tutor two months ago.

His rhythm quickened, so did his breath, his hands felt every part of your body, his hair got wet, his body sweaty, and this all happened in a boring classroom. Your legs were shaking with excitement. Your arms clung to his neck. Everything was perfect, even if you did it on his desk.

"I *kiss* love you so *kiss much, baby."

You brought your two heads closer together.

'You are my soulmate. You are my soul, ohh *kiss* Seungmin, *kiss* what would I do without *kiss* you?'

He kissed you with passion, he kissed you like it was the end, he made sure you knew how much he loved you.

When you both came, he still held you tightly. He looked at you and caressed your cheek.

'That I could love you, as I did just now, is what you call happiness.' 'I feel happy with you.'

Your lips met again, and you devoured each other. You couldn't keep your hands off each other. Everything was perfect at this moment, the atmosphere, the sounds and the one person who could make it all happen: Seungmin.

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husbandhannie · 1 year

Text

home, home, home, home

pairing: woozi x reader

word count: 1.1k

warnings: some relationship insecurity, but this isn't exactly angst, one(1) barely present sexual reference (no details at all)

a/n: svt's home is actually really inspiring when you're in the mood

taglist: @leejungchans @junhui-recs @itsveronicaxxx

jihoon’s distracted, and he knows it. given soonyoung’s concerned gaze, he knows it too.

“we can pick this up later”, his friend offers, “we have time”.

“no, it’s okay”, jihoon responds, not sounding nearly as sincere as he should, “i said we’d do this”.

it’s true. as much as he rolls his eyes at soonyoung’s “tiger agenda”, he promised his friend a tiger-themed song for International Tiger Day, and jihoon is a man of his word. he can’t just stop for today, as much as he desperately wants to.

“we have more than a month”, soonyoung insists, “how about we continue tomorrow? after gym?”

jihoon sighs. he knows his mind is focused on something else today, knows that he can’t help his friend today. he bids soonyoung goodbye as he leaves his studio, and it’s a testament to how preoccupied he is that he doesn’t roll his eyes at soonyoung’s illicit smirk.

you. he’s got you on his mind.

and no, it’s not the way soonyoung thinks.

you haven’t texted jihoon in the last 12 hours, and he’s losing his mind trying to figure out why.

to most people, this might not be a big deal. after all, most of those hours were in the night — the period of the day in which people generally sleep. but you almost never sleep before 2 AM, and neither does he — and the two of you always text during the night. always.

so understandably, jihoon is a little freaked out about the lack of messages from you. his texts and calls to you have gone unanswered, and he’s hoping it’s not on purpose.

as he manoeuvres his car through traffic, he tries to think of the last time the two of you met. it was two — no, three — no, wait, four days ago. you had dropped by his studio for dinner, and mentioned feeling overwhelmed with your master’s thesis. he was working on a track, he remembers.

maybe he was distracted. maybe it dawned on you that he wasn’t available enough, that he wouldn’t be there for you when you needed him the most. maybe you decided to cut your losses and ditch him.

the logical part of his brain knows that that’s very improbable. the two of you talk, and you have always told him when he did something that bothered you. the other part of his brain, however, has been almost waiting for this to happen.

yes, you’re busy too, and yes, you dislike big flashy dates as much as he does, and yes, you prefer night-ins spent just talking — but maybe you realized something, maybe you decided that you deserve better.

the significance of your presence in his life has never hit jihoon so hard, and he’s hoping that he hasn’t fucked this up.

he doesn’t think he’s ever made the journey from your building’s parking lot to your floor so fast — he’s racing through the stairs to the second floor, and for once he doesn’t dwell on how your landlord should cut down your rent because the elevator is somehow always under repair. actually, he’s not thinking about anything but you — and how he feels like the ground under him might give out any second.

he’s felt this way before, back when his group was new to the industry. he remembers the uncertainty, remembers the feeling of dread. he didn’t think he’d ever feel it again, least of all in a romantic relationship. this is what happens when you find a home, he thinks.

he has to stop himself from pressing your doorbell the second he stops in front of your apartment. he manages to wait for about twelve seconds while he catches his breath, before giving in, lightly panting.

the door opens and you emerge in your blue pajamas, your eyes squinting at his figure. he’s woken you up.

“jihoon?”, you blink, a confused smile making its way to your face, “what are you — “, you stand up straight, and he knows you’ve noticed his sweaty forehead and quick breaths, “everything okay?”

“yeah, i, uh”, he stutters for a moment, because he hadn’t thought about what to actually say to you, “you weren’t picking up my calls”.

seriously? he does a mental face-palm. “you weren’t picking up my calls?”

“just came to check if everything is okay” there. that sounds more reasonable.

“oh?”, you move to let him in, closing the door behind you while you answer, “ah yeah! i had a couple of drinks last night with my team, and came home and passed out. left my phone outside, i think”.

oh. jihoon feels the knot in his chest loosen up. he hasn’t fucked his up. you’re still here, he hasn’t lost his home.

“sorry about that”, you continue when he doesn’t respond, “didn’t mean to worry you”.

“no, it’s okay”, he offers, smiling when he notices that you’re wearing your pajama shirt inside-out, “i wasn’t that worried”.

it’s a lie, but you don’t need to know.

“anyway, i’m just going to chill out today”, you say as you pull out your coffee cup, “maybe cook a little, read a book”, you turn to him with another cup in hand, his cup. “wanna have coffee before you go off for work? it’s soonyoung’s tiger song for today, right?”

“he ditched me today”, jihoon pretends to be annoyed, but he can’t help the smile that grows on his face when you laugh, “i can hang around here, if that’s okay”.

“ofcourse”, you smile, and jihoon has to hold back from pulling you into a hug. you do it for him though, wrapping your arms around his waist and sighing into his shoulder. “i missed you”.

jihoon holds back from telling you the truth about his work today. and about the tensed car ride here. and how he ran up the stairs of your defective building. and how he hopes you’ll never get tired of holding him like this.

he’ll tell you later, he knows. later, when it’s not too freaky to tell you what you mean to him, when he’s sure he can say it out loud in words that make sense. later, when he’s sure he’s your home, too.

for now, he just wounds his arms around you and pulls you even closer.

“i missed you too”.

#seventeen fluff #svt fluff #woozi fluff #woozi x reader #woozi imagines #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #svt x reader #seventeen x reader

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underratedmurder · 9 months

Text

Richie Jerimovich/Reader "I Would Like a Blanket Please" (Part 1/2)

Reader works at The Beef and is having some housing/financial troubles, Richie offers his apartment as a place to stay! <3

Stuff in this: Soft Richie, Reader is kind of awkward, Soooo many hands on shoulders, They are so sweet and tender with each other, They both know how much the other one is hurting, They are each others comfort person!!! They have some sexual tension, Carmy is totally onto them

Stuff that will be in part two (if you don't want spoilers then just skip past this): Chicken nuggets (hell yeah), Richie when he was in college <3, Reader sleeps on his sofa which is much nicer than his twin bed?, Sharing blankets, Intense cuddling, The softest kisses

I know its been more than a week since my last update I am sorry dear friends, but trust I will deliver !!! Second part should be up tomorrow night or Monday.

Please enjoy, and leave a comment or like if you want to see more/have any requests !

____________

You were sitting on the ground of the walk-in, fingers getting colder, digging into the sleeves of your thick knit sweater. The one Richie called you crazy for wearing in the kitchen, but also one of the last pieces of physical comfort you had left.

Life was… rough, and you were currently struggling to find housing. You just spent your last bit of money on last night's stay in a motel room downtown. You were hoping you could pull through and figure something out by the end of the day… but that time was now, and you had nothing.

You tried to collect your thoughts, breathing hard and freaking out a little bit. Your nerves were getting the better of you, and you had been nothing but filled with tension the whole day.

You breathed in and out, slowly letting your body relax, and your fingers loosen their grip. You looked at the ground intensely, almost studying it, to remind yourself where you were. And to remember that the world wasn’t actually ending, it was just your life! Just yours!

Don’t worry! At least the restaurant is okay!

Even that was an overstatement.

You felt yourself finally come back to the moment.

“Alright well just don’t put it on the stove again Fak! It’s not fuckin rocket science- Oh,” Richie's voice was booming even before he opened the door.

He had snapped you out of your tranquil state immediately, and you could already feel yourself tensing up again. Being around people and trying to act like everything was normal and okay all day was very hard. Especially around Rich. The guy you almost desperately wished to be close to.

The fear was pungent though, you didn’t want to be a burden on anyone, especially on him. You feared getting tangled up with him in any way would only make life more painfully complicated.

These thoughts and feelings did not cross your mind though when you were actually around him in the kitchen, and you got to talk to him and watch him ‘work’, as you fought back the carnal urge to violently makeout with him.

It was far too easy to be comfortable around him, it was only after your shift everyday that you reminded yourself you were not in the position for a relationship.

If he even liked you-

“Hey, uh, what are ya doin' on the floor?” you were back to reality again, and Richie was looking down at you, one arm on the door and the other at his side.

You looked up at him with the most honest and unintended look of pure dread on your face, eyes sad and fearful. His own expression dropped.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” he lowered his voice and knelt down to look you in the eyes, face to face.

You furrowed your brows and smiled in adoration. His words were somehow instantly comforting.

You shook your head, “It’s nothing. I’m just tired,”

He didn’t look convinced, instead he went to place a hand on your shoulder, his palm was warm in the chill.

“You sure you're ‘aright? You can tell me, ya know? Promise I won’t tell Mr. Crazy Chef,” he joked, referring to Carmy, and you let out a huff.

“Did you spill a giant jar of pickles or somethin?”

“Ha ha,” you said sarcastically, a half smile escaping your somber expression. Though, it didn’t last long.

Richie dropped to your level on the floor, sitting next to you.

You shook your head again, looking down.

“Its just been a long day,” you hesitated, but Richie just waited.

“Things have been… hard,” you let your words out with an exhale, your arms and legs becoming a bit less stiff.

“Home troubles?”

“Yeah,” you half whispered, fiddling with your fingers as that last bit of tension escaped you.

“Yeah… I get it,” he said with a sigh, and he let his head lean on the wall.

You sat there in silence for a second, the humming of the freezer accompanying your barely audible breaths.

“I take it you don’t wanna go back huh?” he asked you, turning his head to look at you.

You furrowed your brows and looked at him puzzled.

“Back home, I mean,” he clarified.

You put it together he assumed your home life wasn’t very good. Which technically it wasn’t, just not in the way he expected.

Obviously, you hadn’t alluded to anything else.

You nodded, barely mumbling another yeah, as to not embarrass yourself, though you could feel yourself getting there.

You leaned back against the metal shelf, tilting your head back and running your fingers by your scalp.

You half smiled at him, afraid to look into his eyes for too long or you might get lost in them.

“You know you can stay with me if you want?”

“What?” you blurted.

“If yur really not feelin like… goin back tonight, you can crash at mine. I got plenty o’ room,”

“Are you serious?”

“Course I am, I’m not an asshole,”

“Well…” you grinned and looked at him cheekily.

“Shush, I aint no fuckin asshole aright? I can be nice,” he expressed with his hands, signature of a pointed Richie opinion.

“Yeah like now?” you joked, your arms hooked around your knees as you leaned forward again.

“You don’t have to come over if you don't wanna-”

“I do,”

Richie stopped and looked at you, surprised and… relieved by your answer?

“I do, want to,”

He opened his mouth to say something, but the longer he looked at you it seemed he couldn’t come up with anything. He smiled a little bit instead, a pleasant sight. His cheeks just a bit pink.

“Well, then we better get goin’, it’s ‘bouta be closing and I don’t recommend staying overtime,”

He popped up from the floor, lending his hand for you to grab and propel you up.

“I already work overtime, Richie,” you reminded him as he brought you to your feet.

“Right uh, I really should get Carm to pay you more for that,”

“You should,” you said, nodding a bit and just barely smiling, it seemed to be something neither of you could stop doing.

“Consider it out of my paycheck. A little catch up in your check for this week. I’ll get Carm to fix it tomorrow, promise,”

You nodded, then looked down, grateful but also a bit guilty. Anything out of Richie's pocket could basically be considered right out of the restaurant. Richie seemed to catch your worried look.

“You ‘aright?” he let a hand rest on your shoulder, leaning over to get a look at you.

You nodded, sheepishly, but Richie just held onto your other shoulder.

“You sure?” you made eye contact, and willed yourself to reassure him.

“Yeah,” you nodded, and he let go.

“Kay, let’s get outta here,” he sighed, opening the door to the giant fridge.

“I promise you won’t regret this. I've got a nice 50 inch flatscreen, the most shining bathroom you’ve ever seen, and a pretty damn good bed,” He said, his eyes bright still but his face smug, until he caught your expression and dropped his own.

“That’s not what I uh…,”

“What’s goin on here cuz?” Carmy rounded the corner,

“Nothin, we’re just headin out,”

“We?” He looked at Richie, incredulous.

“Y/n was uh-”

“I’m staying at Richie's tonight. Just a temporary thing, my parents are having some friends and relatives over right now and I’m not really into opening the can o’ worms that is my life and career at the family function,” you chuckled nervously. You thought of the lie quicker than you were proud of, but knew it might resonate with Carm.

“Yeah no, that's… fine. Yeah, I uh, I understand,” he paused, ”I get it,”

He looked you both up and down, and it was only then that you noticed you were standing so close together your arms were touching. In the time the conversation started, neither of you made an effort to move away from the other.

His brows raised, “Have fun you two,” he smirked and turned to leave.

“Very funny, Carm. Fuck you too!” Richie called after him,

“Hope your playdate goes well!” he called back, just barely audible.

“What a dick,” Richie mumbled.

Remove the word ‘play’ from that sentence and the prospect of your staying over completely changed. Though you wondered, if the word 'play' really insinuated anything else, if not… other activities that could happen at a potential hangout. Was the word ‘play’ in ‘playdate’ in the context of two adults being around one another really any more appropriate than just simply saying date?

“Don’t listen to him,” Richie assured you, blue eyes wide and totally in your face.

You snapped out of zoning out, eyes flitting from the spot on Richie's neck where they rested.

“Sure,” you said half mindlessly, nodding your head and scrunching your nose.

“We are just two coworkers, who are going to one person's apartment, where we will do regular coworker things,” Richie stressed, as you two made your way to the back door, expressing it all with his hands and arms.

“Mhm mhm,” you nodded your head again, walking quickly, but not forgetting to swipe your bag of stuff from off the floor by the lockers.

“Like… sleeping,” he exclaimed a little too loudly, and you both paused in the doorway as soon as he said it.

“That keeps coming out wrong, doesn’t it?” he looked down, and then up at you, smiling a little bit.

He needed to stop doing that, it was starting to become addicting to watch.

“Yeah, it does,” you said with a sympathetic look of worry and also amusement.

“Yeah,” he flattened his mouth, his hands landing on his hips.

“I think maybe you should just stop talking about it for a bit,” you suggested.

“Yeah you're right, you're right. It’s a little weird huh?” he looked side to side, then down at the ground again, scratching his neck.

“I mean, not weird. Just a little, odd,”

“Just a little?” he looked up, smile growing on his face and cheeks still very pink.

“Just a little!” you chimed, and it looked like his eyes were smiling before his lips could.

“Yeah… good on ya babe. I should keep my mouth shut more often”

“Maybe not, completely shut?”

“Ah,”

“But just… mostly, shut,” you let your mouth curl into a smile.

“Right. Like a ventriloquist,” he offered, smiling back, a bit bashful.

“Yes, like a ventriloquist. Exactly,” you grinned and rubbed the space between your brows, he laughed a little.

You laughed as well, just barely, air escaping your nose and mouth. You exhaled, and let your smile fade with his. You both paused, eyes meeting in the comforting silence. Richie's mouth parted, before he clicked his tongue.

“My uh, my car is just at the end of the lot,” he grinned,

“Right yes, lets go to that,”

“As you wish,” he swayed his hand out in front of him.

You simply smiled, and walked past him down the step to outside. He stopped before he could even walk forward.

“Wait, hold up. I gotta get my jacket… I’ll be right back,”

“Yeah, sure,”

He turned towards the lockers but promptly turned right back around.

“Do you need anything? You got all your stuff?”

“Yep! It’s just my bag,”

“Okay, alright, cool,”

He disappeared down the hall, and you turned to face the cold, all too familiar with the chill on your skin. You watched your breath in the air, as you exhaled, trying to slow the rising tempo of your heart. You hoped Richie's place was warm. You hoped he was warm.

“Alright!” you jumped a bit, but met him with kind eyes.

“Let's get this show on the road,”

#richie jerimovich #the bear #ebon moss bachrach #richie jerimovich x reader #the bear fanfiction #The Bear fandom please accept me

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maybankswife · 2 months

Text

Falling for him part 1

JJ Maybank x Fem Kook Reader

slight Rafe Cameron x Fem Kook Reader

Summary-

You and Sarah have been best friends for years, but soon its all about to change.

Warnings-

Swearing, mentions of weed, unedited work

A/N:

Just letting you guys know,

F/L/Y/N stands for the First letter of your name, so when I was talking about the necklaces this is what I meant, I completely forgot to put the meaning of it when I posted earlier!!!

“Workers of the world unite!” JJ yelled out from across the party, his arm up in the air and his hand wrapped around his wrist.

You turned around, your long navy-blue dress flowed freely. Your hair was put up in a y2k styled half up half down, your body was laced with gold jewelry dangling on your flesh. You could see Kiara and Pope running out of midsummers, met with JJ and John B. You watched, and had no idea what was going, you made your way over to your best friend Sarah. You saw her, watching in awe as the Pogues departed from midsummers.

“What’s going on?” you asked her, she lifted an eyebrow at you. confusion painted on her face.

“I don’t know Y/N” she said, she sounding annoyed. You scoffed at her. You knew she had gone to the mainland with John B a few days ago, why was she lying to you about it?

“Stop lying Sarah, you went to Charleston with John B a few days ago” you had to yell over the loud music, and overlining conversations. She grabbed you by the wrist and started dragging you to a quieter spot, further away from the hustle of the party.

“Why does it matter?” she asked you, crossing her arms and leaning up against a pillar.

“It doesn’t” you shouted back, “I just want to know what’s going on” you sighed, you hadn’t spoken to Sarah the whole party, and she had been avoiding you and not answering your text messages.

“Do you promise to not get mad?” she questioned you again, you looked at her. Your eyes met hers, she looked anxious to say whatever it was that was about to fall out of her mouth. You nodded and waited for her response.

“I went to the mainland to help John B with something” she cleared her throat “and we may or may not have kissed” her arms dropped to her side, she looked relived that she was able to say that out loud.

“Wait what!?” You replied in shock with what you just heard.

“What about Topper?” you continued, she looked up at you giving you a gentle look.

“I’m going to break up with him, tomorrow” she explained, standing up straight and dusting her dress off.

“Okay… So are you friends with the pogues now” you lifted an eyebrow, she rolled her eyes at you. Sarah, you, and Kiara used to be best friends, a trio, but she abandoned you guys for the group of boys.

“I don’t know, depends on how things go I guess” she shrugged, you waked towards her and wrapped you arm around the back of her neck and walked together back to the party.

1:47 AM

Your phone started buzzing on your bedside table, it woke you up. You rolled over and unplugged your phone from the charger.

Sarah Cam incoming phone call

You answered the call

“Hello?” Sarah said on the other line, she sounded distressed.

“What’s going on” you replied, sitting up in your bed.

“John B fell from the hawk’s nest, Topper shoved him” you could hear someone shouting in the background, it sounded like JJ.

“Oh my god Sarah what happened!” you pulled the covers off of you and stood up, pacing around the room.

“John B can you open your eyes?” Sarah pleaded with him, it was muffled.

“Pope hurry!”

wait, was that Kiara?

“Sarah what the hell is going on? Do you need help?” you called out, you heard her pick up the phone.

“I need to go Y/N” she hung up the phone. What the fuck just happened.

You ran over to your dresser and slipped on a light blue summer dress and your white converse. You snuck out of your house and grabbed the keys to your car. You got in and drove straight to the hawk’s nest.

You pulled up to the gravel parking space and saw the infamous twinkie. You switched off your car and got out. You walked over to the twinkie, it reeked of weed and sweat. Your nose twitched at the smell of it. But the twinkie being here meant they were still here too. You ran in the direction of the hawk’s nest, once you were close enough you could here the Pogues and Sarah arguing over what to do. You walked up behind them and pushed in front of JJ and Kiara to get to Sarah.

“What the fuck happened Sarah” she looked up at you, here eyes red and tear-stained cheeks. John B was unconscious on the grass next to her.

“Look who we have here, [Name] Palmer” JJ called out, a smirk drawn on his lips. You turned around giving him a petty smile.

“What are you doing here Y/N” Kiara questioned. You moved your focus from JJ to her.

“I could ask you the same question” you replied slyly, and turning back around to Sarah, she was placing small kisses on John Bs lips, gentle and tender. You could hear ambulance sirens getting closer and closer to the hawk’s nest.

Once the ambulance arrived, Sarah was the one that went with John B. As for you and the Pogues you made you way back to the carpark. “So, what’s a princess like yourself doing here” JJ teased, a smile on his face from ear to ear. You rolled your eyes at him, crossing your arms and standing up against your car door. The way the pet name rolled of his tongue like it was normal, was abnormal. You’ve only ever spoken to JJ at parties when he’s drunk and has tried to hit you up.

“I got a call from my friend, I came to help her” you responded, JJ was getting closer to you, inch by inch he towered over you. he looked down at you, your knees felt weak under your body threatening to cave in at any moment.

“Hmm” he hummed, looking you up and down “you sure you’re not here to see me” he leaned in closer, you could smell the weed on him, his clothes reeked of it. You lifted your arm and pushed him back.

“Nope.” You answer back, his face was so cocky he knew what he was doing, and he was doing it well. You turned around and opened your car door.

“You know where to find me” he raised his arm and pointed a finger at you, winking. You scoffed and scooted into your seat, slamming the car door shut. Within a matter of seconds, you had driven off, only leaving a trail of lifted dust behind you.

You arrived home just after 3:00 AM, exhausted. Going through your front door was difficult, especially because your dog Oakley’s bed was just up the hallway. You opted for the good old window entrance, you walked around the side of your house locating your bedroom window hidden amongst overgrown vines, various plants, and flowers. Slid it open, one foot in, followed by the other. Finally, home. You shut the window, leaning over the daybed that sits in front of your window. You walked over to the pajamas that you were wearing earlier, you had left them on the floor. You kicked off your Converse and glided out of your blue dress exposing your naked body. Pulling the satin shirt over and pulling the satin shorts up. You were ready to sleep, you retied your hair into a loose messy bun and jumped into bed.

It’s been a few days since the John B falling off of the hawk’s nest incident, you haven’t really spoken to Sarah since she’s been ghosting you for the past few days; not replying to your texts, ignoring your calls and she hasn’t been at her house every time you went to check. This is the last time you were going to message her, she better have a reasonable explanation as to why she has been ghosting you.

“Sarah wtf y have u been ghosting me?” sent.

You watched the message go through. So, she hasn’t blocked you…

‘Read’ popped up underneath your message. Great.

The typing bubble appeared.

“I’m so sorry Y/N/N John B thought it would be funny to keep me and Kiara on a boat in the middle of the marsh”

Oh. She’s been hanging out with them.

“what? You’ve been ghosting me 4 them” sent.

“come to the chateau right now”

Seriously? Your being dragged to the that shit hole, you turned your phone off and went up to your room. You searched your dresser for the perfect outfit, for some reason you felt like impressing them.

You fished out a white bikini, an orange cropped tank top with a cute graphic on it, short denim shorts and your navy-blue converse. You changed into it, hopping it would be up to “Pogue standards”. Or maybe just “JJs standards”… you put on your necklace stack, of 2 gold chains one with a sun charm that is incrusted with diamonds, and the second with a F/L/Y/N charm. You grabbed your Pura Vida bracelet stack and slid it onto your wrists, followed by your ring stacks for both hands. Lastly gold hoops to wrap everything up. A roll of your favourite coconut scented deodorant, a lot of spray of your favourite summery perfume, along with the body spray you use on top of it.

You rushed out of your room, running into the living room where your mum was,

“Hey mum, I’m heading out with Sarah” you had to lie, because the number of times your parents have complained about the pogues, specifically JJ, your mum would kill you if she knew where you were actually going. You tucked your hair behind your ear, waiting for a response. Your mum, who was sat on the couch looked up at you with a gentle smile and her glasses resting further down on her nose than what they should be.

“Sure, thing sweetie, be safe” your mum replied, she always said yes as long as you were with Sarah. You ran over to her, giving her a tight squeeze,

“Thank you!” you praised, letting go of her and speed walking into the hallway. On your entry table there was a decorative bowl that held your car keys in it, but instead of going by car you decided to take your bike. You walked out the front door and over to the garage where the bikes are stored. You opened the door and walked in, being wafted with the smell of petrol, paint, and rubber. You walked over to your bike, its white, and has a lil basket on the front of it. Perfect. You knew where the chateau is because of the few parties you’ve been to there, so you steered your bike out of the garage and got on and started pedalling.

You’ve been riding for 5 minutes, still 20 more minuets till you can get there. You reached into the basket and grabbed out your phone, shuffling your summer playlist and the song “Megaton Mile” by Local Natives started playing. You turned it up, almost full volume and chucked your phone back into the basket. The song was playing at midsummers the other night, you actually requested it because it is one of your favourite gems. You continued riding, letting your hair fly in the salty wind, small beads of sweat falling from your forehead because of the humidity, and breathing in the fresh air. Its been awhile since you’ve ridden your bike around the OBX and it feels just as euphoric, if not more than the last time you had.

You were getting close to the bridge that connects the Kook side of the Island to the Pogues. The song “Boys don’t Cry” by The Cure was playing. A large rev of an engine startled you, you looked behind you to see who it was, but your bike went off the pavement causing you to fall off.

“Fuck!” you cursed out, lying on the grass of someone’s lawn. You were on your side, leaning on your elbow, your hair has fallen over your face and over your shoulder. You rolled over, putting yourself in a sitting position with your legs stretched out. Pushing your hair back, you see a familiar car pull up next to you.

The window of the car rolls down, and a familiar face sticks his head out the window. It's Rafe, Sarah's brother. He has always had a thing for you, but you have never fallen for him, he’s just not your type plus he’s your best friend’s brother. His cocky laugh belched out,

“No way I just saw that” he called out from the car, he was looking dead at you, no sign of sympathy on his face.

“Seriously Rafe, fuck you” you spat back at him, pulling your elbow up and seeing a large gash on it, already pooling with blood. You looked down at your knees, they are also scuffed up, stinging like hell and bleeding too.

“Calm down, your fine” he teases back at you, getting out of his Range Rover. He walks over to you, and offers you, his hand. You look up at him through your lashes, he was still smiling, thinking this was funny. You were covered in mud now. You grabbed his hand, tightening your grip on his hand you pulled him down onto the grass with you. You stood up quickly and looked down at him now on the ground.

“What is wrong with you!” he shouted at you, tensing his jaw.

“Calm down, your fine” you respond, giggling at the look on his face. He scoffed at you and stayed on the floor. Probably to humbled to move. You walked over to your phone which had flew out of your basket when you fell off, luckily it had landed on the grass and not the concrete. You picked it up the song “Time to Pretend” by MGMT has just started playing. You lifted your bike up and put your phone back in the basket, and pedalled away, leaving Rafe behind.

Finally, you had arrived at the Chateau. You rode your bike all the way up to the front porch, you got off and grabbed your phone. You walked up to the door, knocking on it. You could hear a muffle of voices conversating, and a few heavy footsteps made their way over to the door. Your heart beating faster every time they took a step closer. The wooden door swung open, John B standing in front of you,

“Hey” you sighed, wiping sweat off your forehead. He had a blue cast on his wrist and was alive so that’s a good thing.

“Uh... hey” he croaked out, standing sideways and gesturing for you to come in, “Uhm, come in” he continued.

“Thanks” you responded, walking past John B and into the house. The walls were covered in photos of John B and his dad, as well as a ton of baby photos of him and JJ. You looked around, floor to celling made out of wood, it was cozy. Sarah turned around the corner, a relieved look on her face when she saw you in the hallway.

“Oh my god I was so scared you weren’t coming!” She sped walked over to you, wrapping her arms around you. you groaned because your back was aching from flying off your bike earlier. You wrapped your arm around her, and just as you did, she let go of you. John B was standing behind you,

“Okay let’s go sit with everyone” he cleared his throat, putting his hand on your shoulder almost pushing you forward. Sarah grabbed onto your hand, leading you to the back porch where Kiara, Pope and JJ are sitting.

“So, first Sarah, now Y/N? seriously John B, you may as well invite Rafe over too” Kiara sneered out, looking at you up and down you gave her a bitchy smile. Sarah sat down on a couch, next to John B, the only other spot was next to JJ who was sharing a couch with Pope.

“JJ move over” you instructed, he looked up at you with an amused look. You rolled your eyes. He moved over slightly still leaving barely any room for you, but if you were becoming a ‘Pogue’ you may as well get used to it. You squeezed in next to JJ, in between him and the couches arm rest. There was plenty of room for him to move closer to pope, but nope he was refusing to budge any further.

“Okay now that Y/N is here, we need to catch her up on what’s been going on” Sarah said, looking over at John B for validation in what she just said.

“Uhm… yep, okay. So, Sarah helped me into the archives in Charleston, there we found a letter from Denmark Tanny, a slave, a local landowner, and a sole survivor of the Royal Merchant” your eyes widened, now you’re interested.

“He wrote a letter to his son, Robert in a lost Creole language, Gullah. I took this letter to my history teacher Mr Sunn, who translated the letter. Denmark Tanny saved the gold from the Royal Merchant and brought it ashore, using it to buy his freedom Tanny Hill plantation, in other words Sarahs home, and used it to buy the freedom of other slaves. He wrote the letter to his son on the day he was hung, in a secret language that only they know, telling him where to find the gold. Harvest the wheat, in Parcel 9, near the water. Wheat is code for ‘gold’. Then Sarah gave me an original survey map of Parcel 9 and Tanny Hill at the Hawks Nest, and I got pushed off by topper. Then we made Sarah and Kie stay on a boat together to figure out their differences, and now we are here.” John B finished off, it felt like he was talking forever.

Falling for him part 2

#jj maybank #jj mayback x reader #female #outer banks #rafe cameron #the pogues #obx #john b routledge #sarah cameron #jj mayback imagine #pope heyward #obx fanfiction

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tobiasdrake · 2 months

Text

That's everyone. Time to check out the Favor Tree, then we're on to the Clocktower meetup.

So how's this work? Do I just tell the tree what I want? Do I yank off a leaf and then write my request on it?

I dunno. Given that the rules are lax enough that a Favor Tree is as simple as "the biggest tree nearby" I think there's probably some leeway here. There may not be any particular rules for how we're supposed to pray to it.

Then again, that is the kind of logic that leads to the Bystander Effect. If everybody thinks like that and then nobody wishes for Vaugarde's salvation, that's a whoopsy-doodle. So it's better to inconvenience myself, at the risk of redundancy, for the sake of locking in aid for people in crisis.

Of course, it's not impossible to have your cake and eat it when it comes to wish-granting. All of these potential wishes are things that my team wants to do once the King has been defeated. Granting a wish for these things necessarily requires that Vaugarde be saved.

Therefore, I can wish for something for myself that nonetheless adds the strength of my wish to whatever existing pool of wishes towards Vaugarde's salvation already exists! This is what we call "gaming the system".

And while I wish the best for everyone, there is one person whose desires matter more than anybody else's.

Odile, Maribelle, and Isabeau all have dreams and ambitions for the future. That's great. I'm happy for them. But Bonnie doesn't. Bonnie has trauma. If I'm going to spend a wish on anyone, it's going to be for Bonnie to be healed.

If only one of us can have what they want, it should be them. A lost child's wish to save their family is worth more than gold.

Okay PARTY TIME

Alright y'all, come clean. Who ripped the bread in half and just left it on the table like that?

Or. Wait. Is that the bread, of "breaking bread"? Did we literally break bread? And then not eat it?

Are... are you supposed to eat it? Is it rude to break the bread and then not eat it? Or is it sacrilegious to eat broken bread? I feel like the bread's just going to waste if you don't eat it. But maybe it's a holy gesture? Maybe the act of letting the bread go stale... symbolizes its Change from a state of freshness to a state of badness.

Or maybe one of us here is just a dipshit who doesn't understand the phrase. Looking at you, Isa. On the "Risk of Dipshit" Scale, you're Suspect #2.

Suspect #1 is me but I'm, like, 65% sure I didn't do it.

You made the entire feast all by yourself? I am simultaneously very impressed with you and also tremendously disappointed in the rest of us. Four grown-ass adults and not one of us pitched in to assist the child in the kitchen. I am ashamed of every single one of us.

SPEECH SPEECH SPEECH SPEECH

Uh. No. Appreciate the sentiment but you're wrong. I don't know if you have Pocket Notes on the stakes of this thing but "Everyone dies tomorrow" isn't something people get to opt out of.

I know you don't want to think of membership in this crew as compulsory but... it kind of is. Our options are "Roll the dice tomorrow" or "Find a nice place to die". The latter of which is something most of the town is actively preparing for.

People are capable of tremendous acts of selfless courage when they have no hope of survival. With that in mind, I intend to be very brave tomorrow. There's only one place to do that.

You know, I'm used to rousing campfire speeches having a lot more swearing, raging narcissism, and thematically inappropriate criminality. But this is nice too. All-a y'all are swell. I'm happy to be a part of this.

My dude, I was wide awake. I slept all day today. I was just trying to be politely still so everyone else can sleep, while quietly going over Rock Paper Scissors strategies in my head.

The trick is to not throw the wrong symbol. But to make them think you're going to throw the wrong symbol, so they play into your hands when you throw the right symbol. *sage wisdom*

I love you too, man. Still making sense of things too much to decide if that's romantic or platonic but one way or another we're tight.

Mm. Pillow beats Rock. Good to know. See, that is why I've been silently reviewing Rock Paper Scissors strategies.

Good night, Isa. We'll continue this talk on the day after tomorrow, so long as it comes to pass.

#in stars and time #drake plays in stars and time

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sunny-desk · 5 months

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4,252 Days Chapter 1: Day 1, Pt 1

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Fic Summary: FTWD re-written to include an OC named Gemma who has a platonic relationship/friends with benefits situation with Nick Clark and then goes on to be with Troy Otto. Chapter Summary: Gemma sees a guy run into the road and get hit by a car Word Count: 1177 Author’s Note: This is a big commitment, hopefully I stick with it. I'm excited. Gif from here.

“Please say you’re calling with good news.” Gemma can feel the pre-emptive disappointment radiating through the phone, almost hotter than the 8AM summer sunshine beating down on her as she walks along the street.

“Hello, Olivia. It’s so good to hear your voice. I’m doing well, thank you. How about you?” Sarcasm and semi-fake niceness hung on every word.

“Stop stalling, we saw each other an hour ago, you know how I am. How did it go? Did they suspect the undercut? Because I told you, Gem, it’s silly but it’s true, they’ll judge you for it.”

“It went great, Liv.” Gemma replied simply, not wanting to keep this going and make her friend more annoyed at her than she knows she already is. “No undercut suspected, zero tattoos spotted. I have to go in for a bit of training tomorrow but after that it’s a long weekend before I start properly on Monday.”

Olivia lets out a sigh of genuine relief through the phone, Gemma can tell she’s smiling as she talks. “That’s great, Gem! Really, that’s so great. I have to get back to work but I'll see you back home later, okay? We can talk about it more then. Maybe plan a way to celebrate a little? Alcohol free, of course.”

“Yeah, sounds good. Talk later.”

Gemma hangs up the phone, puts it in her navy blazer pocket and pulls her hair out of its low ponytail, replacing it with a high one, showing off the undercut Olivia spent 10 minutes stressing about helping her hide this morning. Working in a posh office where she has to hide even the most basic parts of herself isn’t exactly the dream but beggars can’t be choosers. She needs this job. She needs to get back on track.

She can already picture her life a few months from now, a little bit of money in her pocket, new clothes she’s been in need of for weeks, finally able to pay Liv the rent she’s owed. An apartment of her own is the real dream but that might be thinking too big right now and living with Liv definitely isn’t a problem. She can picture it though. Flat screen TV, dark green sofa, huge fluffy rug that feels like you’re walking on a cloud. A bit of saving and hard work at a job she’s pretty sure is going to be mind-numbing and it'll be real before she knows it. There’s a smile on Gemma’s face as she walks down the street thinking of the future. Things might finally be looking up.

The loud screech of tyres and the distant thud as something hits the hard road takes Gemma out of her daydream and back to reality. It’s like time freezes for a few seconds as she stops in her tracks, taking in the scene before her.

Black marks on the ground lead up to a small silver car stopped in the middle of the road. Its windshield is smashed and Gemma is pretty sure there’s a small dent on the bumper too. The driver is sitting there, shock on his face, probably not sure if what just happened is his own fault or the fault of the person who just bounced off his windshield and is now laying almost unconscious on the concrete. The other people in the area have stopped too. Some look annoyed that their morning has been disturbed, others look horrified.

There’s a quick rush as time starts again and Gemma runs towards the car and the fallen boy. On closer inspection, he looks rough. No shoes or socks, a half-torn, baggy, white shirt, ill-fitting jeans, hair that seems to not have been brushed in a few days. Gemma peers over her shoulder at a building across the road. She’s been living in the area long enough to know where that boy came running from. It likely wasn't the driver's fault. But it probably wasn’t the boy’s either.

He’s laying on his back, staring up at the sky. Gemma leans over him.

“Hey. Can you hear me? It’s okay. You’re okay,” She says, though she’s not sure that’s true. He looks quickly around him, as much as he can while still laying flat on the floor, and then looks Gemma in the eyes for a second, like he’s checking for something. “Just stay still.”

Looking up, Gemma realises that other than the driver, who took a few seconds to build up the courage to get out of his car and check the damage, she is the only person who has rushed over to help.

“What the hell are they all doing? See a lad get hit by a car and just stand there, seems reasonable, ugh,” she mutters angrily to no one in particular. Looking around quickly, scanning the small crowd, she spots a woman with her phone in her hand and points, “Oi, you, phone someone! Now!”

“No, I’m fine,” the guy mumbles as the woman lifts her phone to call and begins walking over. She hesitates slightly at his comment.

“Ignore him. He’s been hit on the head. Call them.”

He starts trying to sit up, probably faster than he should. Gemma crouches down and reaches out, preparing to attempt to catch him if he starts falling backwards. She makes a mental note to buy some work trousers that she can properly bend in with her first pay cheque. Liv can have these one’s back, if they survive the day.

“I’m fine. I’ll just.. I’ll walk it off, you know. Thanks.” He’s distracted when he says it, not fully in the moment and not looking at Gemma but instead surveying the area once again, searching.

Gemma pretends not to notice. “Walk it off? In whose shoes?” She says it playfully, trying to distract him from whatever this is. He doesn’t seem right. And he can’t just get up and walk this off.

He pauses and takes a look at his grimy, bare feet. “Have you never heard of shoeless hikes? You should try it sometime. It’s great, really.”

Gemma smiles slightly. “Sure it is. Listen, just lay back down, okay? Or at least just stay sitting. You don’t know what could be wrong. The ambulance will be here soon.”

“Nothing is wrong. Uh, I’m Nick, you’re British, it’s.. Tuesday..?” He counts on his fingers. “Well, it’s definitely a weekday. See? Everything..” He starts looking around mid sentence, “...is,” distracted again, more searching, “… fine.”

Gemma follows Nick’s gaze and realises he’s looking at the old abandoned church longer than he’s looking in any other direction. So her assumption was right, that is where he came from.

“I’m Gemma. It’s Wednesday. Stay put.”

Nick turns his head back in her direction. He slumps like he’s lost his fight, exhausted, or has decided whatever he’s worried about doesn’t need worrying about right now. He doesn’t say anything as he lays back down on the floor, giving up his attempts to leave. The shrill sound of an ambulance siren can be heard in the distance.

As the ambulance pulls up, accompanied by a police car a dozen feet behind it, the driver of the car finally finds his voice. He’s been standing there for a few minutes, nervously smoothing out his work suit, trying to think of what to say. He speaks fast, trying to get everything out before anyone official gets within hearing distance.

“Listen. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you, okay? You seem fine.” He turns to Gemma. “He’ll be fine, right? Nothing needs to come of this. I’ll just... be on my way.”

“Spineless.” Gemma mumbles under her breath before looking back at him. She may not think the incident was necessarily his fault but there’s a way to handle it and it’s not this. Looking directly at him, eyes cold, she continues, “I don’t think you’re going anywhere mate, the police are right there. They’ll want a word, I’m sure. And look at him. Does he look fine?”

Nick is still laying on the floor, not moving much. It's like the adrenaline and shock have finally worn off, leaving him aching all over, able to feel what just happened to him.

Gemma continues. “And unless you fancy running some more people over, I don’t think driving off in that thing is a good idea, do you? You won’t be able to see anything out of that window.”

The man turns back to his car, noting the huge area of smashed windshield, and runs his hand through his already slicked back hair, uncomfortable. Nick ignores what Gemma has just said and looks at the slightly dishevelled man, mumbling a response, “It’s whatever, man. I have bigger things to worry about.”

Gemma looks to Nick, wondering what those bigger things are. You’d assume it was potential head injury or internal damage from being thrown onto the concrete by a hunk of speeding metal but Gemma doesn’t think so. Nick was concerned about something, being hit by a car wasn’t anywhere close to the forefront of his mind.

Before the man can decide what to do the police and paramedics have closed the distance. The police go straight to him, the medics to Nick.

“Okay then, what do we have here?” Says the commanding voice of a tall blonde woman striding over. She’s carrying a large bag of any potential medical supplies Nick may need immediately and is being followed by a man and a stretcher.

“His name is Nick. He ran out into the road and got hit by a car.” Gemma quickly responds.

“Nick, can you tell me how you’re feeling? Let me take a look at you.” The paramedic bends down to Nick. She checks his eyes and makes a ‘hm’ sound.

“I feel fine.” Nick says while she continues looking him over. He doesn’t sound fine. His voice has gotten weaker the longer he’s been laying there.

“Right, okay,” unsurprisingly, the paramedic isn’t convinced. “We should check you out properly anyway. Getting hit by a car can cause a lot of damage you can’t necessarily see. Let’s get you on this stretcher and then we’ll be right on our way to the hospital, okay?” She says it firmly, it’s not really a question. But Nick doesn’t seem to be in a position to argue anyway.

Gemma stands back while the paramedics get Nick up onto the stretcher and as they walk him the short distance to the ambulance she instinctively starts to follow. No one questions her getting into the ambulance with them and taking a seat, not even Nick, who looks over to her but seems to mostly be in his own world now, thinking about who knows what. Maybe he’s thinking about nothing, in too much of a daze. Or maybe, like Gemma, he’s thinking about the church.

#fear the walking dead #nick clark #nick clark x reader #nick clark x oc #nick clark imagine #troy otto x oc #Troy Otto #Troy Otto x reader #- not going to tag troy again until i get to him actually being in the fic just wanted it to be known that he'll be in it at some point #mine

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lathalea · 1 year

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One sentence game:

"I cannot do this anymore, Thorin!" you spat out, fists clenched tightly as though it might help you curb the desire to hit him, kiss him, or just burst into tears.

Thank you so much for your ask! It's been a crazy week but I have a moment to catch up with my asks so here I am! Thanks for making my creative brain cells work 💙 I couldn't decide which version to pick, so... how about two? 1. HEAVY ANGST INCOMING, BRING TISSUES (Whoops, I can't count to five, don't count the sentences, okay?)

"I cannot do this anymore, Thorin!" you spat out, fists clenched tightly as though it might help you curb the desire to hit him, kiss him, or just burst into tears. "I can't keep on pretending I barely know you while my mother keeps on searching for a husband for me!"

"After tomorrow, you will not have to any longer. At dawn, I am leaving at dawn to reclaim the home of my people," he held your wrists firmly and yet gently at the same time, pressing your clenched hands against the hardness of his chest, his eyes searching your face. "You will not see me again."

"So… this is goodbye?" You gasped, suddenly starting to tremble, your vision becoming blurry.

A moment before his lips covered yours in a greedy kiss, you heard his murmur, "Zamaralmizi hikhthuzul".

Those were the last words he spoke to you again when the sun painted the sky pink moments before dawn.

***

Countless years have passed; your hair turned from its vibrant colour of youth to the silver of life's winter, and you still wondered what his words may have meant. Finally, you managed to convince a Dwarven merchant passing by your village to translate them for you. "It means 'I will love you forever', my lady," he offered, taking another gulp of your best wine. "May I ask where you have heard this phrase?"

"It is of no consequence," something stung in your chest as you spoke those words. "The Dwarf who spoke those words left the world of living many years ago." You did not say that he had never left your heart. You doubted that the merchant would care.

Zamaralmizi hikhthuzul, Thorin.

2. TRUE LOVE 😍😍😍

This crack drabble is dedicated to @the-fragile-heart-of-a-lady because I know how much you are hoping for a slow burn romance fic about the greatest man of Esgaroth…

"I cannot do this anymore, Thorin!" you spat out, fists clenched tightly as though it might help you curb the desire to hit him, kiss him, or just burst into tears. No, not Thorin, but Him. The most handsome and elegant man in the whole Rhovanion - or maybe even in the whole Middle Earth - the man who now stood just a few steps away from you with a knowing smirk.

His alluringly balding head covered with patches of greasy copper hair, his salacious grin that revealed beautifully rotting teeth every time he looked at you, and the heavy scent of spoiled fish mixed with decaying cabbage, so unique his… The one you yearned for was none other than the Master of Laketown, not the Dwarf you had promised to marry a long time ago before you met this great specimen of manhood by the Long Lake.

Without hesitation, you took off your engagement bead from your hair and returned it to Thorin - and turned to the true master of your heart.

Leave me a word or two and tell me how you (dis)liked it! :) P.S. Please, no throwing rotten cabbage at me, okay? Thanks! 😈

#thorin #thorin oakenshield #the hobbit #sexy beast #master of laketown #esgaroth #crack fic #thorin x reader #thorin x you #master of laketown x you #thorin oakenshield x reader #angst

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kedreeva · 1 year

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wrt your tags about eddie manhandling the kids ummm i am politely asking you to write a drabble about steve getting manhandled

I'm sorry I can't write a drabble about this.

Will an entire 5+1 fic do instead?

------

I. June

It’s not like the couch is even all that comfortable, not any more so than the ones at his own house, but something about sitting on Eddie’s couch, the lights turned low, the TV glimmering with something they chose for themselves, is just… comforting. Especially when Eddie lets him lean his head on his shoulder, when Steve is close enough to hear the steady thump-thump of Eddie’s heart and feel the soft heat of him under his cheek.

It had been about two months since they’d nearly lost him. Steve had brushed shoulders with death a few times since ‘83, but had never had to make the call to split the danger with someone. He’d never had to send someone to fight because he couldn’t. He’d never had to carry anyone home, bloody and broken and so, so still. The last time he’d even been at a hospital was for Will, and he hadn’t really known the kid back then.

It had been something else, sitting beside Eddie, and Max, not knowing if they would wake up. If he would spend the rest of his life worrying he’d let them spread themselves too thin, that he’d just gone along with the plan that had gotten them killed. In the desolate calm of hindsight, he’d tied himself in knots thinking of all the other ways this could have all gone.

But Eddie had opened his eyes four days later, and Max after a week, and they’d been out of there after a couple more weeks. Everyone had so far taken turns being a nuisance between their trailers – new ones for both of them, courtesy of the government – checking in on them, spending time with them. Sometimes Steve is over at Max’s, holding her Wonderwoman comics for her to read or letting her talk about the boys, and sometimes they meet in the middle and hang out in the yard on nice days or evenings.

And other times he finds himself right here, glued to Eddie’s side, watching a movie Robin had passed to him before he left for the night. Sometimes Eddie pays attention, other times he leans his head back against the couch and his face squinches up a little as he rides out the pain. Those times have become less as the wounds become scars, as the horror of their ordeal fades into the past.

Now, June had reared its head and with it the warmth of summer, nipping at the heels of spring’s chill, chasing off the reminder of the cold place where they’d nearly lost everything. Now Eddie’s smiles come easily again, and he even comes out on occasion. Eddie doesn’t comment when Steve falls asleep on his shoulder, peaceful in the knowledge that he had been on time, that Eddie was fine, that Max was across the street, that El had closed the gate that had sundered Eddie’s home and things are okay for a while.

“Hey,” Eddie mumbles, turning his head to touch his cheek to the crown of Steve’s head. He lets it rest there and so does Steve.

Steve makes some kind of noise that can be taken as a sign of life, and tries to drag his eyes open. He fails.

Eddie chuckles and the sound rumbles under Steve’s cheek and Steve’s answering smile feels like a wonderful contagion. “You still planning on going home?”

That drags Steve’s eyes open and he looks blearily at his watch. Eddie’s right. It’s late, and he should go home. He still needs to shower after work, especially since he opens tomorrow. He pulls reluctantly away from Eddie and stretches a little, yawning like a cat. When Eddie gets up beside him, Steve all but melts into the warm spot left behind, turning to gaze up at Eddie. The exasperated smile Eddie turns on him is so full of fondness it almost makes Steve guilty for not getting up with him.

“Gonna make me carry you?” Eddie asks, voice light.

Steve snorts. “As if you could,” he says, stifling another yawn. It’s so warm and nice here. He’d been sleeping so much better than he does at home. “You’d probably pop a stitch or something.”

“No more stitches,” Eddie reminds him, grin going devilish. “You think I can’t pick you up?”

Steve shrugs, knowing it will be infuriating to the other boy. He doesn’t really want Eddie to pick him up – he may not have stitches anymore, but Steve knows exactly how tender and fragile the wounds still feel, because he’s got his own – so he holds up his hands in a silent ask for reasonable assistance off the couch.

Eddie, eyes light with mischief, and Steve really should have expected the way he bypasses Steve’s hands and dives right for Steve’s armpits. Steve’s hands fly to grasp onto him, nearly shoving him away before he has to hold on tighter. Eddie hoists him straight up off the couch and rights him onto his feet.

Heat scratches at the back of Steve’s neck, flushes under his collar as they stand there a second, Steve still grasping too-tight at Eddie’s forearms, Eddie not moving until Steve actually straightens and proves he can stand on his own. Steve can’t breathe- he’s never been just- just picked up like that. Casually, if Eddie’s bright, shit-eating grin is anything to go by. Eddie hasn’t thought about it at all. He hadn’t even noticed the effort, if it had even been effort.

Steve lets out a shaky breath, and something like concern flickers across Eddie’s features a second before he withdraws his touch. “You okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No,” Steve assures him quickly. Maybe ruined him a little, but he hadn’t hurt him. “I’m fine.” He forces a smile, all the sedation of sleep that had settled into his bones replaced by the electricity of adrenaline. “I should- I should get home.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, slowly, but he walks Steve to the door, and he doesn’t ask questions.

And if Steve sits in his car for a few extra minutes, that’s his own business, and if he doesn’t stop wondering for a week if Eddie really could pick him up and carry him, well, that’s his own business, too.

Find the rest on AO3!

#asks #anon asks #stranger things #steddie #stranger things fic #my writing #Will be posting the rest soon #working on the +1 still

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